


Gifts Come in All Shapes and Sizes

by Bickymonster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Relationships, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Complete, Crushes, Cute Teddy Lupin, Developing Relationship, Diagon Alley, Established Relationship, Family, Fire, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Kissing, M/M, Malfoy Manor, Mistletoe, Prompt Fic, The Burrow (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21573538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bickymonster/pseuds/Bickymonster
Summary: A series of 13 short stories, based on Christmas prompts.Eighteen months after the War, Theodore Nott is living with Draco Malfoy and dating Harry Potter, which means somehow all their lives get entangled with the Weasleys'.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Charlie Weasley, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter
Comments: 58
Kudos: 317
Collections: 12 Days of Christmas





	1. Tree

**Author's Note:**

> I will be posting a new chapter every other day throughout December. These are the prompts used:
> 
> 1\. Tree  
> 2\. Santa  
> 3\. Gifts  
> 4\. Wrapping Paper  
> 5\. Snow  
> 6\. Baubles  
> 7\. Christmas Baking  
> 8\. Candy Canes  
> 9\. Stockings  
> 10\. Fire  
> 11\. Hot Chocolate  
> 12\. Lights  
> 13\. Christmas Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #

Draco was sprawled on the settee in Theo’s room, waiting impatiently as Theo bustled around getting ready to go out. 

The two of them had been living together at Malfoy Manor for more than a year and Theo had made himself at home. Draco had suggested it only a few months after the end of the war and Theo hadn’t hesitated to accept; with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy both dead, and Theo disowned, they’d both been quietly glad for the company. Besides, Theo had had nowhere else to go.

“I honestly don’t understand why you are getting him anything,” Draco sneered.

“I am getting him something because I want to,” Theo stated, not even bothering to spare his friend a glance as he continued to shuffle carefully through his wardrobe in search of the perfect robe to match his outfit. “It’s as simple as that.”

Draco scoffed. 

Theo froze; closing his eyes, he let out a long, slow breath, willing himself calm. Harry Potter had always been a sensitive subject for Draco Malfoy, even if Theo didn’t quite understand why, and he knew Draco was still sceptical, despite the numerous times they’d had very similar conversations.

Slowly he turned to fix Draco with a pointed glare. 

“I know it is hard for you to imagine why anyone would actually want to do something nice for Harry but, as my closest friend, could you please try to accept that I do.” 

Draco huffed indignantly. “Preposterous,” he declared dismissively. A contemplative expression crossed his face, his eyes narrowing. “I will find out how Potter hoodwinked you.”

Theo rolled his eyes as he turned back to the wardrobe and selected one of his favourite robes. Shrugging it onto his shoulders he looked to the mirror on the wall and tugged at the lapels to ensure it was sitting straight and wrinkle-free. He gave himself a small nod of approval. 

“Very festive, sir,” the mirror told him. “And an excellent colour for your complexion.”

The deep burgundy red did look good on him, and seasonally appropriate, particularly with the subtle gold detailing around the bottom hem. These robes were particularly precious to him, having been some of the first robes he had bought for himself with his own money, money he had earned working as a Ministry archivist.

Running his fingers through his hair and tussling it, just enough to give himself the windswept look he knew Harry liked, Theo snatched his wand from the dresser and strode across the room toward the door.

“You look like a bloody Gryffindor,” Draco grumbled, rolling himself to his feet and following. 

“This is much darker than Gryffindor red, and you know it,” Theo insisted stubbornly. 

He was not going to change again, having finally found an outfit he was happy with. He would not let Draco ruin this for him. He ignored the dramatic huff from his friend a few paces behind him as he headed out into the hallway. 

Turning left, he made his way toward the Entrance Hall.

“Besides,” he added as Draco caught up with him, matching his strides, “we aren’t in Hogwarts anymore. I’m not going to avoid the colour red for the rest of my life simply because I wasn’t a Gryffindor.”

“Potter isn’t going to forget you weren’t a Gryffindor just because you dress like one,” Draco pointed out haughtily.

“What?” Theo blinked at his friend in disbelief for a moment before shaking his head. “How is that anything close to what I said?” he asked rhetorically as they reached the stairs. “Sometimes I wonder if you listen to a single word I say.”

Draco smirked. “I try not to.”

“Anyway...” Theo went on pointedly, trying to remember exactly why he and Draco were friends, “I’m not trying to fool anyone. And…” he added quickly as they reached the Entrance Hall, turning on his heel to face Draco and raising a hand to cut him off before he could speak, “...no one is hoodwinking me. Not even you, my clever friend.”

Ruffling Draco’s feathers never grew old. 

Theo smiled subtly to himself as he turned from Draco’s now deeply scowling face, crossing the Entrance Hall with long strides. 

“I think I should accompany you,” Draco called after him, his hurried footsteps sounding loudly off the marble floor and echoing in the mostly empty hall. “Just to be sure.”

Theo frowned at Draco as he caught up, the two of them heading down a familiar corridor. It led to several communal rooms, including the Receiving Room, the only location in the house which allowed apparition past the wards. 

“To be sure of what precisely?” Theo questioned. “That no opportunity to insult Harry Potter is missed?” 

“Admittedly, that would be a bonus,” Draco told him with an unrepentant shrug.

“Draco…”

As Theo reached for the doorknob, Draco reached out, resting his hand on Theo’s arm. Waiting, Theo met his eye, surprised by the earnest expression his friend wore. 

“I just don’t want to see these Gryffindors get the best of you,” Draco told him. “Beside’s I’m excellent company.”

Theo rolled his eyes as he pushed open the door to the Receiving Room and stepped inside.

“Fine,” Theo agreed with a resigned sigh, holding the door open and gesturing Draco inside. “You can come. But you have to at least try to behave like an adult. No insulting Harry or his friends, no petty remarks, and no pulling Harry’s pigtails.”

“Trust me, I would never lower myself to touching Potter’s hair,” Draco assured him with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No matter how he chooses to style it,” he added snootily before disappearing into thin air with a pop. 

“Well I’m reassured,” Theo muttered to himself, focusing on Diagon Alley and disapparating.

-#-

Predictably, Diagon Alley was busy. It seemed to Theo that every wizard in Britain must be there, all of them hurrying about, trying to find perfect gifts for each of their loved ones. The crowds were not helped by the large tree being erected close to Gringotts, a spectacle which was drawing a crowd of its own already. It made Theo glad he had come early and already found what he was looking for.

“You’ll never find Potter in amongst all these considerably taller people,” Draco remarked as they looked around, trying to see over the crowd pushing past them in both directions. “We might as well give up now and go home.”

“You’ve been complaining for years about how you could spot a Weasley from a mile away,” Theo pointed out. “Your time has come.”

“Weasley?!” Draco exclaimed with something close to horror, turning to glare at Theo. “You never said there would be Weasleys.”

“I told you I was meeting Harry and his friends,” Theo told him, shrugging. “You knew at the very least that would include Ron Weasley. Those two are inseparable. If I didn’t know better I would think there was something more between them.” 

“Are you quite certain there isn’t? I would hate for you to have your heart broken by a Weasley of all people.”

“I’m sure,” Theo told him with an unimpressed frown. “I have seen more than enough proof of how smitten Weasley is with Granger.”

Draco’s nose scrunched in disgust. “Ew.” 

“Quite,” Theo agreed dryly. 

“Also, I believe we should be heading in that direction,” Draco instructed pointing a little way off passed Theo’s left shoulder, his brow furrowed. 

“Really?” Theo questioned, turning his gaze in the direction his friend was pointing. 

Sure enough, there was a distinct group of redheads gathered there, about twenty feet from them. 

“Huh…” He chuckled to himself. “Seems you really are a Weasley-detector. Who would have thought it? Are you sure it’s not you who has a thing for one of them?” he asked teasingly. 

“Theodore!” Draco exclaimed in outrage. “Don’t even joke about such things.” Shaking his head, he barged passed Theo, heading toward the gaggle of Gryffindors.

Theo hurriedly followed, dodging through the crowds.

“Weasleys…” Draco was grumbling under his breath as Theo caught up with him. 

“While your feelings about Ron have always been quite clear, there are quite a few other Weasleys to choose from,” Theo pointed out with a smirk.

“Do you want to be homeless?” Draco threatened, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

Theo, however, simply grinned at him broadly, knowing it would take a lot more for his friend to evict him from Malfoy Manor. They needed each other far too much, even if neither of them would ever admit such a thing aloud. 

The moment they stepped into the small clearing the Weasleys had created, Harry was there, grinning and greeting him enthusiastically. 

“Theo! You made it.” 

It warmed Theo’s heart and he quickly pulled Harry into his arms. 

“Of course I did,” he told him earnestly, hugging Harry around the waist with one arm, pulling him close. Threading the fingers of his other hand into Harry’s thick hair, he pressed their lips together in a brief, chaste kiss before looking him in the eye once more. “I wanted to see you.”

“You just saw me yesterday,” Harry reminded him with a laugh, grinning up at Theo happily as he was released from Theo’s embrace. “Were you missing me already?”

“Dream on, Potter,” Draco sneered, drawing Harry’s attention to him for the first time.

“Oh good, you brought Malfoy,” Harry said flatly, fixing Draco with a glare for a few seconds before turning to look back up at Theo. “And just when I was starting to think you actually liked me.”

“I do like you. I more than like you,” Theo insisted, obviously unfazed. “But Draco is my closest friend and he was concerned about our relationship.” He leaned down to whisper to Harry. “He thinks you have me hoodwinked,”

Harry laughed at that, giving Theo a playful shove. 

“I’m always nice to your friends,” Theo pointed out, pulling Harry back into his arms and stealing another kiss. “Let him see how happy you make me. Please?” he implored, pressing teasing kisses to Harry’s jaw.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Harry agreed, chuckling, and his hands sprawled against Theo’s chest. “He can join us,” he agreed, as Theo pulled back to look him in the eye.

“I knew you’d see things my way,” Theo stated confidently. 

“Yes, yes, you’re very persuasive,” Harry agreed with a roll of his eyes. 

Taking Theo by the hand, he led him, and Draco, toward the centre of the group of Weasleys. 

“Everyone, you remember Theo, right?” 

There were shouted greetings, much waving, and George, Charlie, Hermione and Mr Weasley all even shook his hand in welcome. It hadn’t been easy the first time he’d brought Theo along to a Weasley dinner, but after six months together, most of them had grown used to his presence. Ron was still adjusting, but seeing Harry happy was enough to keep his temper in check… most of the time at least.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Ron asked suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention to the blond in question.

“It’s a public place, Weasley. I have as much right to be here as you do.”

“He’s here as Theo’s guest, Ron,” Harry stated quickly, stepping in front of his best friend and raising a hand. “Be nice.”

“Nice?” Ron asked incredulously.

“It’s Christmas, Ron,” Hermione reminded him, resting a hand on Ron’s arm. 

“But-” Ron began, but Hermione shook her head.

“We’re not in Hogwarts anymore, the war is over, we all lost too much…” Hermione’s voice trembled and several gazes flickered unwillingly to George, who was standing with Angelina, between Charlie and Ginny, looking as lost as he often seemed to nowadays. 

“Malfoy is Theo’s friend, and you know how I feel about Theo…” Harry said earnestly, as Theo wrapped an arm around his shoulders, both of them looking Ron in the eye. 

“Draco’s not going to be any trouble,” Theo assured him. “Right, Draco?” 

“Sure,” Draco agreed blandly, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll be good as gold.”

“Convincing,” Ron grumbled under his breath, obviously sceptical.

“Please, Ron,” Harry implored. “Just… don’t start anything.”

“I won’t, if he doesn’t,” Ron agreed belligerently, jabbing a finger in Draco’s direction.

“Good enough, thank you,” Theo said earnestly, knowing it was the best they would get. And he went back to attempting to regain Harry’s attention for himself. 

-#-

The following hour or so was surprisingly peaceful as they watched more and more glowing decorations being added to the enormous tree. As the sun set, disappearing behind the buildings, the decorations illuminated the wizarding street in a magical glow. However as the setting sun also meant the temperature was dropping rapidly too. 

“This will warm you up,” Charlie said, appearing at Theo’s side, holding out a tray containing four cups of hot chocolate.

Theo glanced at the other Weasleys, who were all now clutching cups of their own. He wasn’t sure when the older Weasley brother had ducked away and fetched the drinks but they were certainly a welcome offering. The warming charms they were using kept the worst at bay but had nothing on a true heat source like this. 

“Thank you,” Theo said earnestly, taking two cups, one for himself and handing the other to Harry. “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing, don’t be silly,” Charlie said dismissively, grinning widely. “My treat.”

“Thanks, Charlie!” Harry exclaimed gratefully, cradling the warm cup between his cold fingers. 

“Thank you,” Theo agreed earnestly. 

Sipping his drink, he relished the delicious warmth that spread through his body. He watched on curiously, however, as Charlie turned to Draco next. 

“Hot Chocolate, Malfoy?”

Draco turned to blink at Charlie in disbelief before his gaze shifted to the hot drink the man was offering. Theo could see the battle in his friend’s mind. Draco got cold more easily than anyone he knew, and he also had a terrible sweet tooth, particularly when it came to all things chocolate, but to accept it from a Weasley…

“Ron will happily claim a second one if you don’t want it,” Charlie told him casually. 

Theo barely restrained a snort, already knowing it would work and rather impressed by how easily Charlie played his stubborn friend. 

“I think not!” Draco exclaimed huffily, all but snatching the cup from Charlie’s hand. “Weasley will just have to manage with what he already has, thank you very much,” he added before drinking deeply, as though not wanting to give him a chance to change his mind. 

“Mind if I watch with you?” Charlie asked, gesturing up at the tree, which was almost completely decorated now. 

“It’s a public place, Weasley,” Draco told him. “Stand wherever you want.”

“Charlie,” Charlie corrected. 

Draco turned to blink at him in surprised confusion, and Theo couldn’t help but smirk knowingly. Maybe his teasing about Draco’s Weasley-detector hadn’t been so far off the mark after all.

“You should call me, Charlie,” the red-head clarified. “I have a lot of siblings, so calling us all Weasley gets confusing.” 

“Right,” Draco agreed, before going back to looking at the tree. “Thank you for the drink… Charlie.”


	2. Santa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #

Harry leaned against the doorframe of Andromeda’s living room. An amused, fond smile twitched at his lips as he watched her battle to get shoes on to the never still feet of twenty-month old Teddy. It was a challenge he’d faced more than a few times in the last year or so.

“Hey, Teddy, you excited to meet Santa?” he asked.

Teddy’s head jerked around, grinning as he spotted Harry, becoming even more restless.

“Ya, ya,” he declared happily, his little head bobbing eagerly. His ear-length turquoise hair flopped in his face but he seemed unconcerned as he clumsily brushed it out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I think he’s more excited about you being here than Santa,” Andromeda retorted, finally managing to secure the lace of the second shoe before turning to look over her shoulder with an amused half-smile. “It’s been nothing but ‘Harry, Harry, Harry,’ all week.”

“Hawweee!” Teddy all but squealed, lifting and clapping his hands above his head. 

Pulling his now shoe-covered-foot free from his grandmother’s hold, he wiggled himself forward off the front of the sofa, heading straight for Harry. 

“It’s nice to be wanted,” Harry said with a shrug as he pushed off the doorframe and opened his arms. Teddy didn’t slow, and as he collided into Harry’s legs, Harry reached down and swung him easily up into his arms, sitting him on one hip as he crossed the room to Andromeda. 

“Teddy does love his uncle Harry, there’s no doubt about that,” Andromeda assured him as she struggled to get herself up from the floor where she had been kneeling. 

Harry wisely chose not to remark and simply held out his free hand, which Andromeda accepted with a half-hearted glare and a resigned sigh. Using his support, she hauled herself back to her feet with an aching groan.

“I really wish you would let me help out more,” Harry told her with a frown as he followed her out into the hallway. 

“No, no,” she said, stubbornly dismissive as always, despite the fact her back was obviously causing her discomfort, if not outright pain. “Teddy and I manage just fine. Besides, you’re young. You should be spending every minute of your free time with that lovely man of yours.”

“Theo?”

“Feo?” Teddy echoed hopefully, his hand tapping against Harry’s chest as he looked up him. 

“Later, Teddy,” Harry promised, smiling back at his godson.

“Unless you have some other lovely man you’ve not told me about?” Andromeda questioned as she retrieved Teddy’s coat, gloves, and scarf from the hooks in the hall. 

Harry chuckled. “No, just the one for now.” 

“And he’s joining us today?”

“Should be meeting us there,” Harry told her as he took careful hold Teddy’s hand so Andromeda could slip a glove over tiny, wiggling fingers. “He had a few things to take care of this morning and didn’t want to keep us waiting.”

“Such a considerate gentleman,” Andromeda practically crooned, as she slid Teddy’s second glove into place, before pulling a bobble-topped hat down to Teddy’s ears. “You have excellent taste,” she praised, patting Harry’s cheek. 

“Errr…thanks,” Harry muttered, feeling a bit awkward and flushed at the affection and praise, even if the latter was more directed at his boyfriend. 

“Hawwy?” Teddy said, reaching up to press fingers to Harry’s cheek too. 

“Yes, Teddy?” he asked, happy to have an excuse to give his full attention to the not-quite two-year-old in his arms.

“Where Feo?” Teddy asked a little impatiently, glancing over Harry’s shoulder toward the front door. “Feo play?”

“Yep, Theo’s going to come and play too,” Harry promised him, “but first you have to let Grandma put your coat on you.”

“Okay,” Teddy agreed seriously, wiggling to be put down and turning to his Grandmother the moment his feet touched the ground, with his arms out. “Coat, Ga’ma!” he demanded.

-#-

The muggle ‘Winter Wonderland’ was already bustling with people by the time they arrived. The sounds of Christmas music were mingling with the chatter of the crowds and the laughter of happy children. The real snow, which was thin on the ground outside, had been topped up with artificial stuff, making it feel much more like the winters Harry remembered from Hogwarts, with snowbanks against every wall and snow crunching underfoot. Around them, various stalls were offering food and hot drinks, filling the air with rich and alluring aromas.

Harry wanted to take his time and explore all the offerings, but Teddy, who was perched upon his shoulders, had other ideas. 

“‘Orse, Hawwy. ‘Orse!” he exclaimed excitedly, his little legs kicking despite the tight hold Harry had on them. 

Slightly confused, Harry turned in the direction Teddy was pointing, trying to understand exactly what it was that had caught his godson’s eye. Peering through the crowd, he spotted an animal enclosure with several large reindeer. A small laugh bubbled out of this throat. 

“Those are reindeer, Teddy,” Andromeda explained before Harry had a chance. 

“Do you want to go see the reindeer?” Harry asked. 

“Neindeer!” Teddy shouted, patting Harry on the top of the head. “Want see Neindeer.”

“Rein, Teddy, Reindeer,” Andromeda corrected, as the three of them started to make their way toward the enclosure. 

“Deer no rainin’, Ga’ma,” Teddy said with a laugh, covering his mouth as he giggled. 

“Well of course not, Teddy. It is just what they’re called,” Andromeda explained. 

Teddy, however, didn’t really seem to be paying her much attention. As they reached the small gathering around the animal enclosure, his wide-eyed gaze became fixed in amazement upon the large creatures.

Amused by Teddy’s awe, Harry lifted him down from his shoulders, taking his hand securely in his own to keep his godson from rushing off or getting lost in the crowd.

“Want see, Hawwy,” Teddy insisted, tugging on Harry’s hand and Harry allowed himself to be led between a few people and right up to the metal railing. “Eeee! Look, reindeer!” 

“I see the reindeer, Teddy,” Harry assured him, crouching down just behind the twenty-month-old. “Do you want to touch it?”

“Gently, Teddy,” Andromeda added from a few paces behind them.

Teddy squealed excitedly, not even hesitating before reaching through the railing to brush a hand very gently against the leg of the nearest reindeer. Squealing once more, he quickly withdrew his hand, laughing as he backed up against Harry.

“You guys look like you’re having fun.”

“Feo!” Teddy exclaimed, recognising Theo’s voice instantly and moving around Harry to throw himself at Theo’s legs. 

“You’re here earlier than I expected,” Harry remarked as he stood back up and leaned in, to give Theo a quick, chaste kiss to the lips. “Not that I’m complaining. I just thought you would be a while yet. It sounded like you had a lot to get done.”

“I decided that spending the morning with you and this little man,” Theo said, ruffling Teddy’s hair, “was a much more appealing prospect than meeting with the goblins. They can wait until tomorrow.”

“Good answer, Theodore,” Andromeda praised quietly, but Harry didn’t miss the tone of amusement and threw her a small glare before returning his attention to his boyfriend.

“Choosing me over the goblins, I suppose I should be flattered?” Harry asked teasingly. “Or perhaps I’m just a convenient excuse to avoid dealing with incredibly boring Gringotts matters?”

Theo chuckled softly, shrugging as he wrapped an arm around Harry. “You are the most wonderful excuse to avoid many things,” he informed him, stealing another brief kiss. 

“Feo, Feo,” Teddy interrupted, tugging at Theo’s trouser leg to get his attention. 

“Sorry, little man, what is it,” Theo said, releasing Harry and crouching down to put himself at Teddy’s height.

“Look, is reindeer,” Teddy informed him, as he pointed toward the animals once more. “But they no raining,” he added, shaking his head, his expression growing incredibly serious. 

“Well that’s good because otherwise, we’d get all get…” he quickly swept Teddy up into his arms, tickling him as he did so, earning a joyful screech, “...soaking wet! And cold,” he added, ceasing his tickles and blowing a raspberry against Teddy’s cheek. 

Harry smiled at the sight, loving how amazing Theo was with his godson, how carefree they both seemed when they were playing together. He became so caught up in watching his boyfriend and godson looking at the reindeer and talking together, that he didn’t notice Andromeda move to his side. 

“He’s really very good with him,” Andromeda pointed out, not for the first time. 

“Yeah,” Harry told her with a grin. “Teddy knows how to handle Theo perfectly.” 

“While that is admittedly true, you know perfectly well what I meant, Harry Potter,” she stated firmly, unimpressed.

Harry sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to avoid this inevitably awkward conversation, which he knew Andromeda had been trying to have with him in one form or another for some weeks now. In truth, he was finally happy and just didn’t want to change or question anything that might burst the wonderful little bubble he was currently living in. 

“Well, you know I think Theo’s great...” Harry agreed. 

Andromeda hummed her agreement, watching him with a patiently expectant gaze. 

“I’m happy with him, I’m not sure what else you want me to say,” Harry admitted.

“Maybe you want to consider spending more of your time with him then,” she suggested. “Perhaps if you lived together…” 

“I’m just not sure I’m ready for anything... more,” he added vaguely. Though even as he said it, his brain supplied him with numerous mental images of the potential domestic life they could share, the breakfasts they could eat together, the evenings they could spend lounging on the sofa, and the prospect of waking up next to him every morning.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Andromeda assured him gently, reaching out to clasp his hand in her own. “Just be cautious not to let something precious slip through your grasp. We both know all too well how short and unpredictable life can be.”

Harry just nodded, sharing a warm and hopefully reassuring smile with Theo as the man glanced back over his shoulder toward him. He couldn’t argue with that.

-#-

Harry smiled fondly as he pulled Teddy’s scarf a little more securely around his godson’s neck, blocking out the worst of the bitter wind that was blowing through them as they waited in line to meet Santa. 

“It’s your turn next, Teddy,” he informed him. 

“You still awake, kid?” Theo asked, poking teasingly at the twenty-month-old, who was perched on his hip, head resting on his shoulder, having exhausted himself rushing around for most of the long day. 

Teddy squirmed a little as Theo prodded him, giggling as he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. Andromeda had grown tired too and had opted to find herself somewhere to sit and rest for a while, trusting Teddy into Harry and Theo’s care 

“You don’t want to fall asleep before meeting Santa,” Harry told Teddy with mock seriousness, brushing turquoise hair back from his wind-flushed face. “Unless you’re too tired to tell him what you would like for Christmas?” 

Teddy giggled again and tried, failingly, to keep a straight face as he kept his eyes closed. 

“Oh no,” Harry said over-dramatically, letting out a long disappointed-sounding sigh. “I guess we’ll just take Teddy home to bed, Theo. He’s obviously far too sleepy.”

“It seems so,” Theo said with mock sadness. “Guess he can’t meet Santa after all.”

“No, no! Santa! See Santa.” Teddy suddenly exclaimed, his eyes opening wide as he sat up in Theo’s arms, trying to peer around him to make sure Santa was still there. “No bed,” he added sternly as he turned back to Harry.

“Oh good, you woke up,” Harry said, faking surprise as he lifted Teddy from Theo’s arms and stood him down on his two feet and straighten his coat to make sure no part of him was being exposed to the cold winter air. 

“Are we ready?” a petite lady in an elf outfit asked as she came back over toward the queue they were finally at the front of. 

“Yah,” Teddy agreed excitedly, bobbing his head and grasping Harry’s hand securely. “I ready.”

“Then follow me,” she told them.

Together they followed her, toward a large man, who was sat on a golden throne-like chair wearing a fluffy red suit trimmed with white. The man smiled at them through his snow-coloured beard as they approached. 

“Hello there, young man,” Santa greeted, his voice every bit as deep and rumbly as Harry had hoped. “What’s your name?” 

“Teddy,” he informed him eagerly, not releasing his hold on Harry but shuffling closer to the large festive man, pulling Harry along behind him. “Dat’s Hawwy,” he added, turning to gesture to him. 

“Nice to meet you both, Teddy and Harry,” Santa told them warmly. 

Harry tried to gently nudge Teddy further forward toward the man, despite the hold his godson maintained on his hand. 

“Go with him,” Theo encouraged, nudging Harry forward a little too. 

Harry looked uncertain, but realising that Teddy wasn’t going without him, took the last few steps toward the throne and Santa upon it. He lifted Teddy up, and within his godson still holding firmly onto several of his fingers, sat him on Santa’s lap. 

“Hi,” Teddy said, blinking up at the man as though almost surprised to see him. 

“Is there something you would like for Christmas?” Santa asked. 

“Boomstick,” Teddy declared excitedly. 

Harry snorted out a surprised laugh and he could hear Theo chuckling a few paces behind him. He had no idea how he would explain that particular request. But it seemed he didn’t have to because Santa simply smiled and nodded. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said seriously before turning to look Harry in the eye. “And you, young man? Anything I can bring you for Christmas?”

“Oh, ah…” Harry laughed nervously, shaking his head. “I’m just here for Teddy. I don’t really need anything.”

Santa chuckled deeply, his eyes sparkling. “Christmas isn’t just for children, Harry. And maybe, particularly at Christmas, it’s okay to ask for things we don’t strictly need, and maybe just would really like,” he said quietly with a wink. “It’s okay to want things, Harry,” he added, as he lifted Teddy back down onto his feet and handed him a small wrapped gift. 

Harry just nodded in confusion as a very happy twenty-month-old barged back into his legs once more and he took Teddy’s hand securely in his own again as the three of them left Santa’s grotto together. 

“Are you okay, Harry?” Theo asked with concern as they meandered their way back toward where Andromeda was waiting for them, Teddy hugging his present to his chest.

“Yeah, I am. I’m... “ Harry trailed off, turning to look at Theo seriously. “I want to spend Christmas together,” he said earnestly. 

Theo broke into a surprised grin. “Seriously?”

“Yeah? I mean. I was going to go to the Weasley’s and I know you’d be welcome there, but if you think that would be too much then…”

“I’d love to, Harry,” Theo assured him earnestly, cutting him off, leaning forward to press his lips against Harry’s, a cheering Teddy clinging to their legs and trying to squish himself between them. 


	3. Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #

Charlie Weasley was enjoying being back in Britain. 

He had loved working at the Dragon Sanctuary in Romania but after spending the best part of a decade living there, so far away from his family, he was glad to finally be home. He had missed the rambunctious family meals, was enjoying actually being up to date with his siblings' lives and having conversations with them on a regular basis, and he definitely loved not having to fight through waist-deep snow to get to work. 

Although he did miss his dragons and colleagues, the only real problem was that he had yet to find a place of his own. This meant he was currently back in his childhood bedroom at the Burrow and was spending perhaps a little too much time with his mother. 

Molly Weasley was undeniably delighted to have him back. However, she now seemed determined not to miss a single moment with him, which was flattering but growing old fast. Because while Charlie loved his mother with all his heart and understood her clinginess, given everything their family had been through in the last few years, it didn’t make it any less overbearing. He was, after all, a twenty-seven-year-old man, who had grown quite used to living a very independent life and taking care of himself.

He was, therefore, extremely grateful to Ginny, who, as planned, had shown up at the Burrow bright and early that morning. As he made his way downstairs, he could hear his mother and sister talking in the kitchen. 

Giving up on the idea of breakfast, he went straight to the fireplace. 

With it only been a week before Christmas, Charlie already knew what he was going to do with his freedom; he was going to make a start on the seemingly endless list of presents he still needed to buy. He knew he should probably have started sooner but it had been hard to find the time.

So, a man on a mission, he took a pinch of floo powder and threw it into the fire. He didn’t hesitate as they turned green, quickly stepping into the flames and calling out his destination.

-#-

Stepping out of the fireplace into the Leaky Cauldron, Charlie allowed himself a moment to revel in familiarity of it all. 

The pub was exactly as he remembered, right down to the smell, which seemed to be a totally unique mix of centuries-old grim combined with the ever-present rich, hearty odours of home-made stews and pies. The same tables, sat in the same spots, illuminated by the same half-heartedly flickering candles which burnt unendingly above. He was fairly sure that a couple of the regulars tucked away in the corners might have been there longer than he’d been alive, though admittedly many of the pub's customers looked much the same as each other once they tucked themselves away in the dingy, shadowed corners and hidden beneath large hoods. 

As he ordered breakfast from Tom at the bar and made his way over to one of the empty tables with a cup of tea, the whole experience had the welcome air of nostalgia. He remembered all too well the trips his family had taken to buy school books or Christmas presents, starting off their day in that very room. 

The cooked breakfast, when it arrived not long later, was just as delicious as he remembered. Charlie devoured every scrap on his plate before draining the last dregs from his second cup of tea. 

Pushing himself up from his seat, the wooden legs of the chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. He pointedly ignored the glare of the hag at the next table as he pulled a handful of coins from his pocket, counting out twelve sickles and eight knuts and leaving them on the table. He waved his thanks to Tom as he made his way to the back courtyard.

He felt almost like a kid again as he drew his wand. It took him a moment to recall the pattern of bricks, which he’d seen his parents tap out on so many occasions, but it quickly came back to him. Tapping it out for himself, he watched with childlike delight as the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley was magically revealed before him. 

There was a grin on his face as he strode forward through the newly formed archway, joining the excitable festive crowds.

“Ten sickles a pound, ten sickles a pound,” a vendor in the doorway to the apothecary was calling out loudly.

“Robes, custom made in time for Christmas,” a rather bored sounding sales lady shouted. “Dress to impress,” she added, almost humorously unconvincing in her tone.

Charlie soaked up the atmosphere as he let himself be swept along the street, not in any hurry to find the things he needed. He would be quite happy to spend the rest of the day browsing, searching out presents for each of his family and friends. 

Though he knew exactly where he needed to stop off at first, his eyes already fixed open the towering marvel at the far end of the street; Gringotts. 

-#-

Browsing Diagon Alley just a week before Christmas was unsurprisingly something of a challenge. There was plenty to see, that was for sure, but there were simply too many other witches and wizards trying to see it all for themselves too. 

Charlie, however, was nothing if not patient. Years of competing with so many siblings, followed by just shy of a decade of handling dragons, had taught him well. He rarely rushed anything and was content to let things unfold as they would. So, while other customers around him seemed to grow increasingly aggravated by the bustling crowds and long lines in every shop, Charlie took it as a chance to look around and take in the many sights and smells Diagon had to offer.

As he was leaving Flourish and Blotts, having purchased perfect presents for both his father and Hermione, the rich, sweet scent of cooking chestnuts wafted over him and Charlie glanced around in search of the source. 

“Roast chestnuts! Freshly roasted chestnuts!” 

The shout drew Charlie’s attention to the raggedy man standing next to a small, rustic cart. Having eaten nothing since his rather filling breakfast that morning, Charlie detoured through the crowds, heading in the man’s direction, his stomach already rumbling in approval. He was unsurprised to see quite a queue had already formed. However, as he went to join the line, he narrowly missed colliding head-first into a thin blond-haired man, who had stepped into the back of the line at almost exactly the same time. 

“Oh! Sorry, after you,” Charlie said, quickly stepping back. He had no issue waiting a few extra moments and knew how much of a hurry everyone else seemed to be in. 

“Thank you,” the man replied a little curtly, with a sharp nod of his ducked head.

Charlie blinked in surprise as he recognised the blond who had taken the place in line in front of him. 

“Draco?”

Slowly, the blond turned, looking up at him. His grey eyes narrowed into a pointed and slightly confused expression, which Charlie rather enjoyed watching. Draco’s gaze lingered on Charlie’s face for a few long seconds before flicking briefly up to his hair. 

“Weasley,” Draco greeted, his tone curt but not exactly cold. 

Charlie let out a short, surprised laugh. “Didn’t expect to bump into you again so soon. But then I’m fairly sure half the wizarding population is here today.” He gestured to the crowds, as though Draco might have somehow failed to notice them. “Besides, who can resist the lure of freshly roasted chestnuts?”

Draco gave a non-committal hum, obviously unsure what to say. 

Charlie, however, had no such issue. “I’m also pretty sure I told you to call me Charlie,” he went on with a grin. “You know far too many Weasleys for you to call all of us that.”

“Truer words,” Draco muttered under his breath, moving a little closer to the chestnut cart as the queue moved.

“If you’re not careful, I might get the impression you’re not pleased to see me,” Charlie teased, taking a slightly larger step, deliberately putting himself just a little closer to Draco than he had been before. 

Grey eyes narrowed, flashing dangerously. 

Charlie, however, just continued to smile, unperturbed by the frosty attitude. “But I have plenty of experience with dragons of all kinds,” he informed him. “I can tell my company doesn’t bother you half as much as you believe it should.”

Draco raised an eyebrow and, to Charlie, he seemed almost amused. 

“Dragons?”

“I worked at the sanctuary in Romania,” Charlie explained. “I’ve transferred to the reserve in Wales now, so I can be closer to my family… what with everything that’s happened…” He trailed off. No one wanted to discuss the war, least of all at Christmas. 

Although Draco said nothing, Charlie got the impression he understood, perhaps a little too well. There were few left in their world who hadn’t lost someone in recent years and he knew Draco had lost more than most. 

“Leaving the sanctuary was a hard decision, of course, I loved everything about being there,” Charlie went on, wanting to fill the silence as much as anything, “but it’s good to be able to spend more time with my family. I am very much enjoying my break from them today, though. They can be a little intense.” 

Draco hummed in vague agreement as the queue moved forward once more, the pair of them moving in sync. “It can be nice to have time to one’s self.”

“I suppose, though I wouldn’t say no to some company this afternoon if you’re interested,” Charlie offered, stepping passed Draco and up to the counter at the small cart when the last of the queue in front of them moved away. “Two bags, please.”

“No, I…” 

Draco’s protest, however, was cut short.

“It’s on me,” Charlie informed him dismissively as he took the first of the bags of chestnuts and handed it over to Draco, whose brow was furrowed in confused indignation. . 

“You really did  _ not  _ have to do this,” Draco told him sternly, apparently baffled by the unexpected show of generosity. 

“Of course not,” Charlie agreed easily, paying the raggedy man behind the counter before taking the second bag. “I wanted to.” 

He led a still dazed-looking Draco out of the way of those now queuing behind them. 

“Consider it a bribe for your company for a few hours,” Charlie reasoned. “Plus I still have far too many presents to buy and could seriously use a second opinion. And at least I can trust you to be bluntly honest with yours.”

Draco huffed. 

“Unless you’re too busy?” Charlie questioned, second-guessing himself for a moment. 

“I suppose I could spare a few hours,” Draco admitted reluctantly, popping a single chestnut in his mouth and doing his utmost to appear disinterested.

Charlie, however, beamed at him. “Brilliant. Maybe you can help me figure out what in Merlin’s name I’m going to get Harry. That boy never wants anything, I swear.”

Draco made a strangled noise of protest, his eyes widening very slightly as he stared up at the slightly taller man. “And why would I know anything about what  _ he _ wants?” he questioned indignantly, quickly straightening his face into a mask of apparent indifference.

“Well, he is dating your best friend, for one thing,” Charlie pointed out, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “Besides, from everything I hear, you and Harry always had a somewhat unhealthy fascination with each other,” he added with a dismissive shrug, as they started to meander their way down the street. 

“We do not!” Draco exclaimed with something akin to horror etched on his face.

“But even if you can’t help with Harry’s present, you can definitely help me find something for Theo.”

Draco huffed. “I might be able to help you with that.” 

“Perfect. Thank you,” Charlie told him earnestly.

“But you are on your own with regards to Potter,” Draco added quickly, sternly. “No sane wizard could ever hope to comprehend what goes on within that twisted mind.”

Charlie decided it was best not to argue. Smiling to himself, he popped a chestnut into his mouth as he followed his blond friend into a nearby antique store he had never bothered to explore before. 

-#- 

Draco was, perhaps unsurprisingly, an incredibly bossy shopper. Not that Charlie minded. 

He had spent the rest of the afternoon being dragged into numerous small and fascinating shops. Many of them he was quite certain he had never seen before, despite the fact he had been visiting Diagon Alley his entire life and had spent the whole morning wandering around exploring it for himself. Draco seemed to have access to alleyways that others just didn’t. 

He also had definitely been right, Draco’s opinion was proving invaluable. 

Draco had helped pick out not only the perfect gift for Theo, but also found a beautiful self-cleaning apron for Charlie’s mother, explosion-proof gloves for George, and even, despite his protests, a detailed book on how Quidditch had evolved as a sport throughout history, which Charlie knew Harry was going to love. 

“I would never have managed to find something for everyone without your help,” Charlie told him gratefully.

“It was rather a large number of presents to purchase,” Draco agreed.

“The quite literal price I pay for having such a large family, I suppose,” Charlie sighed dramatically before chuckling a little. 

“It could be worse,” Draco pointed out quietly, his tone turning serious. 

Charlie sobered, the mood between them growing suddenly sombre. He found himself remembering once again just how much Draco had lost, how little he had left. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose your whole family.

“You’re quite right, of course,” he said, nodding once. “I’m certainly not complaining, you understand. I know all too well that Family is not something to be taken for granted.”

“No,” Draco agreed. “It isn’t. Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Charlie, but it is quite late now. I really must be going.” 

“Oh, okay, I…” Charlie struggled for the words, not sure how to fix the broken moment between them. “I understand. No problem. Thank you again for you all your help, and your company. Maybe I’ll see you again some time?”

“Maybe,” Draco agreed, his mind clearly already elsewhere. 

Charlie forced a smile and just gave a small wave to the blond as Draco turned and disappeared into the crowd. 

He had enjoyed Draco’s company more than he had anticipated. Draco was witty and honest to a fault, not to mention pleasing to the eye. Truthfully, Charlie was half tempted to run after him, so he might be able to try and chase away the cloud of loneliness that seemed to be consuming him, but he didn’t think Draco would appreciate that. 

So instead, Charlie made sure he had all his purchases securely on his person, and headed back toward the Leaky Cauldron, intending to head home, determined he would find a way to see the blond again, and soon. 


	4. Wrapping Paper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #

“Two hours, Ron, that’s all I need!” Hermione insisted with exasperation, as she chased him through their home, her expression frazzled. “Two hours and then you can come home.”

“Okay, okay!” Ron agreed as he hopped his way across their small living room, pulling on his second boot as he went. 

Reaching the fireplace, he snatched up a pinch of floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece. 

“Look, I’m going, love,” he exclaimed. “Practically gone already!” 

“Thank you!” Hermione all but breathed out, tugging her fingers through her hair, which was extra frizzy and sticking up in even more directions than usual. “I love you but…” She gesticulated wildly at the house around them. 

The precise meaning was somewhat lost on Ron. However, his wife had already made it perfectly clear she needed him out of the way so she could complete the hundred and one things which supposedly needed doing to their home. She had spent the last two day running around, hanging ornaments and lights, cleaning, and baking more than he’d ever seen her cook in the entire time he’d known her. To Ron, everything was already more or less perfect, but according to Hermione, there was more to be done. 

He had never understood why Christmas had to be this complicated but given it was their first one together as a married couple, and he knew it was in his best interests to keep Hermione happy, he wasn’t about to argue the issue. 

“I love you too,” he told her sweetly. 

Throwing the powder into the already flickering flames, he stepped into the now-green fire. 

“The Burrow,” he instructed, Hermione and their living room disappearing from sight as he was sent twisting through the floo network toward his childhood home. 

As he stepped out of the fireplace at the other end, however, he was only mildly surprised to discover the living room suffering from a similar inundation of Christmas. The walls were strewn with the usual decorations, of course, as they had been every year of his life. But what he hadn’t expected was multicoloured mass of wrapping paper that was covering every inch of the floor.

Charlie was sat on the floor across from him, completely focused on tying a few ribbons carefully around presents he had already wrapped. At his side were several half empty bags, presumably containing gifts still left to sort. And Harry, who he was rather surprised to find there at all, was over by the armchair and seemed to be having issues as he battled noisily against the wrapping paper. 

Ron stood quietly by the fireplace and watched for a moment, enjoying his friend’s suffering in a way only a best friend truly could. 

Thankfully he had Hermione to manage the wrapping of presents now, or he almost certainly would have found himself in a similar predicament. As it was, he knew all their presents were already wrapped and ready for Christmas Day, thanks to Hermione’s impressive organisational skills and his willingness to let her take charge. 

“Oh hey, Ron!” Harry exclaimed happily, as he finally won his battle against a particularly stubborn piece of tape and finally noticed him; though he made no attempt to extract himself from beneath the mass of wrapping paper.

Charlie looked up at Harry’s words, he blinked at Ron in surprise for half a second before smiling warmly.

“Hi, Ron,” he greeted. “Welcome to the party.”

“Thanks,” Ron said uncertainly. 

“Didn’t know you were joining us,” Harry remarked as he tore off another long piece of tape.

“Didn’t know there was anything to join,” Ron countered, as he stepped carefully manoeuvred the mess in front of Charlie. “Seems like your having all the fun without me.”

Finding a safe spot where he wasn’t going to accidentally crush anything, he flopped down on the sofa. 

“Oh yeah, so much fun,” Harry remarked sarcastically as he attempted to stick the tape onto the awkwardly shaped box he was almost done wrapping. 

Patting the wrinkled paper more or less flat, Harry gave it an appraising look. He shrugged and made a soft dismissive sound, before adding it to a stack of already haphazardly wrapped presents leaning against the side of the armchair. Wrapping presents would never be one of Harry talents.

“I thought I heard…” his mother was already saying as she came into the room, drying her hands on a tea towel. “Ron,” she said as she spotted him on the sofa. She quickly shook off her surprise. “We weren’t expecting you today. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Ron assured her quickly, not wanting her to worry. Can’t a guy just visit his family?”

“Oh, of course, you can, sweetheart,” she said, waving off his teasing. “You know you’re always welcome. How about I bring you all some tea and biscuits?” she offered. “It’s about time you boys take a break from all this anyway.” 

With only a small frown at the mess Charlie and Harry were making of their wrapping, and without waiting for a response from any of them, she hurried back off toward the kitchen.

“Just visiting your family?” Harry questioned knowingly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a teasing smile. 

Ron smirked. “Sure, why not.”

Charlie scoffed, leaning back against the wall and taking a break. “More likely you’re avoiding something.”

“Yeah, what’s Hermione trying to drag you into now?” Harry asked.

“Nothing!” Ron insisted. “She’s just decided to go all out on the Christmas stuff this year. Pretty sure she’s trying to replicate Hogwarts in our home or something.”

“So you figured you’d hide out here until the hard work is done?” Charlie questioned teasingly. 

“Nah, more like I was chased out of my own home. Honestly, she’s a menace.”

“You’re the one who thought it was a good idea to marry her,” Harry pointed out unsympathetically as he selected a book from the pile of unwrapped present. “Besides, you’ve been living together since Hogwarts. You already knew what she was like.”

“True,” he admitted. 

“Brought it on yourself little brother,” Charlie added with an amused grin. 

“Yeah. But she’s also pretty amazing.” Ron sighed wistfully. “Her happiness is always worth it. Even at the expense of my sanity.”

“That’s actually kinda sweet,” Harry informed him.

“You’ll see,” Ron said smugly. “I bet Theo will do all sorts of stuff that’ll drive you crazy when you guys finally move in together. But you’ll still be glad you did it.”

“Probably,” Harry admitted. 

“Something you’ve been thinking about?” Charlie asked him curiously. 

Harry paused in what he was doing and took a deep breath, his brow furrowing as he gave the question serious thought. 

Ron sat up, giving his best friend his full attention. He knew things were going well between Harry and Theo but he hadn’t realised that they were getting so serious. He was almost surprised to realise he was actually happy for him. The Slytherin had kind of grown on him, he supposed.

“Just something Andromeda mentioned the other day,” Harry told them. “I don’t know if we’re there yet, but…”

“You’ve been thinking about it?” Ron suggested uncertainly. 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Kinda. Maybe.”

“If it helps, moving in with Hermione was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made,” Ron told him. “We might get on each others’ nerves sometimes, but being able to do all the little stuff together… totally worth it, mate. Trust me.”

“I wish I had someone to move in with,” Charlie grumbled half-heartedly. “Living with Mum is getting old fast.”

“Perhaps you could move in with Malfoy,” Harry suggested with a teasing grin.

“What!?” Ron exclaimed, horrified at the very suggestion. “Why would he do that?” he demanded to know, before rounding on Charlie without waiting for an answer. “Why would you do that?”

“I wouldn’t. Harry’s just joking,” Charlie assured him easily. “Honestly, I barely even know the guy.”

“Maybe, but I hear the two of you had quite a lovely afternoon shopping together the other day,” Harry countered with an amused smile.

“Draco referred to it as ‘quite a lovely afternoon’?” Charlie asked, obviously sceptical; though Ron was almost certain he heard hopefulness in his tone. 

“I’m paraphrasing,” Harry admitted with an unrepentant shrug. “But Theo did say Malfoy was in a disturbingly good mood that evening, and admitted to spending much of the day with you in Diagon Alley.”

Ron’s gaze flicked between his brother and his friend as they spoke, trying to process what he was hearing because it sounded worryingly like his brother had willingly spent quite a considerable amount of time in Malfoy’s company. And what’s more, Harry seemed to be encouraging it.

“You went shopping with Malfoy?” he managed to sputter out after several moments. 

Charlie’s ears tinged pink and Ron’s confused horror only grew. He wasn’t stupid enough to miss what Harry was implying about Malfoy and Charlie, but he hadn’t expected there to be any truth behind the suggestion. He knew that blush reaction though, he had seen it on many of his siblings, on multiple occasions. 

“We bumped into each other while queueing to buy chestnuts,” Charlie explained. 

“Quaint,” Harry remarked teasingly, his wrapping pushed to one side for the moment while he gave Charlie’s story his full attention. 

Ron too wanted to know exactly how his brother had ended up suckered in by a Slytherin, and the worst of them all too. He had only just got used to Theo being around on a regular basis, he didn’t think he could ever get used to dealing with Malfoy more than once in a blue moon.

Charlie shot Harry a look but continued on regardless. 

“I remembered what you and Theo had been saying about how lonely he’s been, and he hadn’t seemed so bad when I spoke to him at the tree revealing ceremony. So, I dunno...” Charlie shrugged dismissively. “I asked him to join me.” 

“And he just agreed, simple as that?” Harry questioned, obviously surprised.

“Well, I might have bribed him with freshly roasted chestnuts,” Charlie admitted with a grin. “And that’s not a euphemism, so you can drag your filthy mind out of the gutter, Harry Potter.“

Harry chuckled in a way that all but confirmed he had been thinking exactly what Charlie had accused him of, and Ron shuddered at the implication. He didn’t ever want to think about such things, not when they involved either his brother or Malfoy, let alone both. 

“I’m not sure exactly what convinced him but yeah, he just agreed,” Charlie went on, seemingly obvious to Ron’s suffering. “I told him he could help me pick out presents for people, give me his honest opinion on my selections…”

“There you go, then, you gave him a chance to criticise stuff,” Ron pointed out grumpily, gesturing toward Charlie before crossing his arms over his chest. “Malfoy would never give up a chance to be a complete arse.”

“Seriously, Ron?” Harry asked with exasperation, laughing as he shook his head. 

“You’ll probably be surprised to learn that he was actually very helpful,” Charlie informed them. “Draco has a real talent for selecting the perfect gift.”

Ron scoffed, struggling to imagine Malfoy ever willingly helping anyone, least of all a Weasley. The expression on Harry’s face showed similar disbelief. 

“He even helped me find something for Harry, here, and we all know how difficult he is to buy for.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad,” Harry protested.

Ron, however, wasn’t going to touch that one with a broomstick, even if he hadn’t been reeling from revelations about Malfoy and Charlie. So he just continued to blink sceptically at his older brother.

“Honestly, guys,” Charlie went on firmly, “he was the perfect gentleman all afternoon.”

“Who’s a perfect gentleman?” their mother asked curiously, as she returned to the living room, with a tray carrying three freshly filled teacups and a large plate of biscuits. “Did you finally find yourself a nice young man, Charlie?”

“He found himself a Malfoy,” Harry informed her smugly before anyone else had the chance to speak up.

“Oh! Really?” their mother exclaimed in surprise as she placed the tray down on a side table. She hummed thoughtfully, nodding as he took it from her. “Well, he is very handsome,” she remarked as she began to pour tea into each of the cups.

“Surely you can’t approve!” Ron exclaimed incredulously, throwing his arms in the air and slumping back on the sofa. 

“Ron...” Harry implored. 

“I approve of any of my children finding happiness,” their mother stated curtly as she took the first of the cup of tea over to Charlie, smiling at him fondly as she handed it over. 

Ron felt himself flushing a little under his mother’s chastising tone. Of course he wanted Charlie to be happy, he just didn’t understand how that could be possible if he was with Malfoy.

“I know our two families have not always had the best history with each other,” she went on, as she picked up a second cup. She fixed her youngest with a pointed, no-nonsense stare as she brought him his tea. “However, from all I can tell, he is a young man who has lost just as much as any of us. And if Charlie can see good in this boy…”

“I can,” Charlie stated confidently.

“...then that is good enough for me,” their mother finished sternly, handing him the cup in her hands before turning to Charlie. “Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart,” she told him. 

There was a slightly awkward, tense silence while she handed Harry his tea, and she placed a generous plate of biscuits on the coffee table in front of Ron before bustling off to the kitchen once more. 

Ron helped himself to a biscuit and leaned back into the couch once more. 

“Well that told me,” he remarked once he was sure they were alone once more.

“Serves you right for being an insufferable prat,” Charlie told him, though his half smile reassured Ron that he hadn’t actually upset his brother. 

“Yeah, you should probably let go of some of those old prejudices, mate,” Harry told him with a wry smile. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Ron admitted. “Everyone’s grown up but me. It’s just… He might not be all evil and that, like his old man was, but… he’s still a complete git.”

“Yeah, he is still kind of a git,” Harry admitted with a laugh. “Becomes part of his charm after a while, in a way. It stops being quite so loathsome anyway.” 

Ron scrunched up his nose at the reminder that even Harry didn’t hate Malfoy anymore.

“He’s actually got a pretty wicked sense of humour,” Charlie informed them, “even if most of it comes out as snark. But then I always did have a taste for fiery creatures.” 

“Oh yeah,” Harry said with another laugh, “guess you really do have a thing for dragons.”

“Guess so,” Charlie agreed, his ears pinking once more. “And like Mum said, he really is very handsome.”

“Sounds like you better start getting used to him, Ron,” Harry said with a devilish smirk, “because Malfoy might be your git of a brother-in-law soon.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Ron said sternly, turning to glare at his best friend.

“Not any time soon at least!” Charlie exclaimed with amused exasperation. “We’re not even dating yet.”

“Yet! See, Ron, at least you have time to get used to the idea before it happens,” Harry teased. 

“Freakin’ Malfoy,” Ron said with a groan, Harry and Charlie to both laughing at his expense.


	5. Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #

Harry woke slowly, snuggling into the blankets for a few moments before he lifted his head to peer at the clock on his bedside table. It was already a little after nine. He had half a second of panic before remembering he had the day off, and didn’t had anything else he had to be doing; he’d seen Teddy the day before and almost everyone else he knew would be busy at work.

He was, however, bad at lying around doing nothing. So, yawning widely, he slid his legs out from under the warm covers of his bed and sat up, earning a satisfying pop from his back as he stretched. His eyes felt tired, despite how long he had slept, and he rubbed at them as another yawn escaped him. 

Ignoring how his socks had slid part-way off his feet during the night, and leaving them to flop loosely around his toes, he padded his way across his bedroom to the curtain-covered window. Pulling the heavy drapes aside, the metal of the curtain rings scritching loudly against the rail, he blinked out over the roofs of London. 

The morning light, which was often intense through the east-facing window, was even brighter than he had anticipated. The sun glinted back at him off the pure white snow, which was now covering the multitude of rooftops before him. That hadn’t been there when he’d gone to bed. 

He rubbed at his eyes once more and grinned broadly at the sight, feeling suddenly much more awake. 

The stereotypically wintery weather reminded him of days he had spent trudging across the grounds of Hogwarts with snow banks halfway up to his knees. He’d never forget how it felt to fight against the blizzard blowing in his face as he tried to visit Hagrid, get to classes in the greenhouses, visit Hedwig at the Owlrey, or make his way to the Quidditch pitch. They were days he remembered fondly now.

London, however, rarely got that kind of weather and he missed it. Somehow, it never felt quite as Christmasy without at least a good few inches on snow on the ground. 

Feeling energised by the beautiful winter morning, he quickly changed out of his pyjamas and into the jeans from his bedroom floor and the t-shirt he found. Hesitating for only a few seconds, he added one of the Weasley jumpers he had been gifted a few years previous, for extra warmth. Grabbing the thickest pair of woollen socks he owned, he left his bedroom. 

He located his glasses on the breakfast bar, which separated the sparsely-decorated living room from his tiny kitchen. Slipping his glasses on, he turned his gaze toward the living room window, which shared much the same view with the bedroom window he had been gazing out of only minutes earlier. 

The snow-covered roofs of London, he thought, looked even more magnificent once in focus. 

Turning back toward the kitchen, Harry briefly considered breakfast. After opening a few cupboards and taking stock of the measly contents, however, that idea went out the window. He knew he should restock but he’d been spending so much time at either Theo’s or Andromeda’s lately that it hadn’t seemed worth it. 

Deciding to grab something on the go, he instead fetched his dragon-skin walking boots from close to the front door. Hastily, he tugged on his socks and shoes and pulled on the heavy coat he kept hung by the door. He threw his old faithful Gryffindor scarf around his neck for good measure, and headed out.

The first crunch of snow underfoot was satisfying. The harsh cold of the morning, however, hit him hard, despite his coat, scarf and notoriously warm Weasley jumper. The brisk wind swished around him, blowing the still falling snowflakes every which way. 

Not that Harry was complaining. He loved winter. It was his favourite time of year.

Maybe it was simply the contrast of the cold weather to the burning heat of those horrendous summers he had spent labouring over Petunia’s garden, or even that he associated the coming of summer with his return to the Dursleys’, but winter always felt somewhat… safer, more comforting. Besides, it was always so much easier to wrap up and make himself warmer than it was to try and cool off, even with the use of magic. 

Harry tugged his scarf a little tighter around his neck, zipped his muggle coat up past his chin, and shoved his hands into the deep, fur-lined pockets. Not really having a destination in mind, he turned and headed off down the street.

-#-

Harry’s stomach was already rumbling with hunger when he caught sight of a street vendor in a van. He dug a small handful of muggle coins from his pocket as he headed over, getting into the queue behind two men in fluorescent jackets who were currently being served. 

“Wha’ can I get ya?” the man in the van asked the second his was done serving the men. 

“Tea, milk and sugar,” Harry requested as he scanned the scribbled menu on the board. “And a bacon butty.”

The man nodded with a grunt, turning to start on Harry’s order without a word. 

Harry rubbed his hands together to fight off the chill that was settling in as he stood still waiting. But it wasn’t long before the man was putting his food on the service hatch, placing a steaming paper mug next to the haphazardly wrapped roll. 

“Three eighty,” the man informed him bluntly.

Harry said nothing as he quickly counted out the right change and paid him before taking his breakfast. The piping hot tea warmed his fingers enough that he was able to unwrap the bacon butty. 

He tucked into it as he went back to his wandering. It was barely passable but he washed it down with the actually halfway decent tea. And by the time he was dumping the empty packaging into a bin, his freezing fingers were already mourning the loss of warmth. He regretted then, not bringing enough change to buy himself a second drink. 

Instead, he cupped his hands together and breathed into them a couple of times, before shoving them back into his coat pockets as he continued to meander mindlessly around the snowy streets of London. 

-#-

By late morning, much of the snow was gone from the main streets. Between the surprisingly bright sunshine, the warm wheels of the vast numbers of vehicles that never stopped moving about the city, and the never-ending foot traffic, it could never have lasted long. 

Harry, however, made his way to one of the city’s many parks, where the snow still lay thick on the ground, broken only by narrow winding trails, where others had ventured out to enjoy the unexpected weather. 

As he wandered, he casually watched the people around him. 

To his right was a group of half a dozen pre-teens having an enthusiastic snowball fight. Off the other way, there was a man, who seemed to be helping his five, or maybe six year old son build a snowman. There were also a fair few couples, who were all but trudging their way along the snow-covered pathways, as though the snow came up to their thighs rather than their ankles; though admittedly, several of them had small children in pushchairs or prams, apparently determined to have their whole family enjoy the experience despite the obvious effort involved. 

It was wonderful. Perfect really. But it all made him wish Theo could be there so they could share the moment.

Harry found himself wishing he could have woken up next to his boyfriend, wishing they could have discovered the morning’s snow together. Harry doubted Theo would have fully shared Harry’s love of the snow, he didn’t know anyone who did, but it would still have been nice to have had that moment. He could imagine the mocking, teasing look his boyfriend would probably have given his childish excitement, and he felt foolish for mourning the loss of something he had never had. . 

His mood suddenly bittersweet and with his hands already growing increasingly sore from the cold, despite keeping them tucked in his pockets, Harry decided to call it a day. He glanced longingly back over the gorgeous park once more before taking the path which would lead him back toward the wrought iron park gates he had come in through earlier. 

He needed to go home anyway, he reasoned. 

He should find himself some lunch, tidy the house, clean the bathroom, put on some laundry, and do all those other little things that came with being a supposedly self-sufficient adult. He at least needed to ensure he had clean clothes ready for work on Monday. 

Back on London’s streets, the pure white snow from that morning was now nothing more than a dangerously slippery mix of dirt and ice, and the slush on the pavements squelched unpleasantly underfoot. The stroll, which hadn’t felt far at all that morning, seemed to have become an endless trek as he headed across the city, making his way back toward his apartment. 

Harry tugged his scarf more tightly around his neck again and tucked his hands back into his pockets, protecting himself against the biting wind. 

As he grew increasingly cold, he found himself wishing he could be in any one of the numerous cars rushing past. He once again regretting not bringing more money with him, muggle or otherwise, so he might be able to get a lift home. It was as he was debating the merits of summoning the Knight Bus anyway, and pleading with Stan to let him pay upon arrival, that he turned yet another corner and realised exactly where he was. 

Freezing on the spot and blinking in surprise, Harry hesitated, considering, debating with himself. He had not intended to come this way, to find himself in this part of the city, and yet his feet had brought him there unbidden. Yet, he felt almost compelled now that he was so close. 

Still uncertain, Harry waited for the traffic to clear and hurried across the road, turning into the small crescent of all too familiar houses. 

Grimmauld Place remained relatively unchanged. Most of the homes on the street were well cared for, with immaculately painted facades and snow-laden window boxes, which would be bright with flowers come spring and summer. Many well-loved cars were parked outside, each of them with several inches of snow still on their roofs.

Only number twelve was showing the years, ever more paint peeling from its unseen front door, the fidelius charm holding strong and keeping it hidden from all but a select few. 

The former Black family home stood like nothing more than a colossal monument to Sirius’ memory now. 

Harry supposed it was the closest thing he had to a grave marker to visit since they’d never had Sirius’ body to bury and so he had often treated it as such, even if not entirely intentionally. It certainly felt more like a grave than a home in his heart.

Harry had no idea what state the building might be in on the inside. Truthfully, he didn’t care to find out. He hadn’t set foot in the place since the end of the war and had no inclination to do so now. There were too many memories. There was too much pain, too much loss, too much anger trapped within those four walls for him to want to ever try to salvage any of the home it might once have been. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to forget. No, on the contrary. Harry knew it was important never to forget, lest history’s greatest mistakes come to be repeated. But he had known he had to let go of the past before it consumed him. That was why he had moved into the apartment, after Hermione had pointed out how Grimmauld Place seemed to be affecting him. 

He had needed the fresh start and the move had been one of several positive changes he had consciously made in his life, which had helped him considerably. 

Deciding to give Theo a chance and accept him into his life had definitely been another. 

Smiling at that thought, Harry allowed himself one last moment to remember, before taking a deep breath and forcing himself to walk away. 

-#-

The warmth of his home washed over Harry like a tidal wave as he finally stepped through the front door. Sighing with relief, he all but tore the scarf and coat from his body to let the heat sink into his aching body. He heeled off his shoes, tugging his socks off too for good measure.

Plodding his way through to the kitchen, he busied himself with a quick lunch from the last two crusts of bread and an almost empty jar of peanut butter. He tried as he did, not to dwell on how quiet his apartment was, on how alone he was, on how much better every aspect of his day could have been if he could have shared it with Theo. It was something he had been doing increasingly often lately. 

However, as he flopped himself down onto the sofa some five minutes later and bit into his sandwich, he took a moment to glance around at his small apartment. 

Theo had, of course, visited him there, even stayed the night on a few occasions, but Harry still found it hard to picture his pure-blooded boyfriend in the mostly muggle home. Not to mention, he already knew the small space would not be anywhere close to big enough for them both to share. It was only big enough for Harry because he was rarely there.

Of course, there was no way he could move in with Theo where his boyfriend was currently living. Even in the unlikely event that Malfoy might agree to such a thing, Harry would likely never feel totally at ease in Malfoy Manor anyway. And he wanted them to have a home they both could enjoy.

The idea brought a smile to his lips. 

“Guess we’ll have to find somewhere completely new to live then,” Harry said to himself with a disbelieving laugh, hardly daring to believe he was actually considering such a thing. 

He looked fondly around at his small apartment once more as he took another bite of his sandwich. 

It was the first home that had been truly his own and, in that regard, it would always hold a special place in his heart, but while he had believed he would be living there for a good many years yet, he found he wasn’t remotely sorry at the idea of leaving the place. He would happily leave if it meant a chance to find a new home somewhere else with Theo. 


	6. Baubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #

In the dimly lit Drawing Room of Malfoy Manor, Draco lounged, as much as he ever did, in his favourite armchair. He absent-mindedly swirled the firewhisky in his glass as he stared unseeingly into the flickering flames of the fire, ignoring the soft pop of a house elf behind him. He knew it was just Hisky depositing another box with the others and he gave neither the elf nor the box a second thought; his mind was already elsewhere. 

It was hard to believe that Christmas was nearly upon them again. 

He hadn’t even bothered trying to celebrate the previous year, which Theo had understood and accepted with little question; it had been too soon after the war and they had still been reeling from it. But now they were well into December once more, the last year feeling as though it had vanished in the flick of a wand. 

It had been his first full year without his parents and the world was moving on, even if he still felt somewhat lost without them. Which was why, only four days before Christmas, the manor remained decoration free. He couldn’t bring himself to have the elves put up a tree, or hang sprigs of holly or mistletoe, to set out the festive golden candelabras, or hang any of his mother’s precious ornaments. 

There was rapping of knuckles against wood and the door was opened before he had a chance to respond. Draco took a moment to sip at his drink before turning slowly toward the doorway. Theo was standing there, leaning casually in the doorway, watching him with a curious expression.

“Is this a private mope?” Theo asked, his lip twitching into a teasing smirk. “Or can anyone join?” 

Draco narrowed his eyes, huffing a breath out through his nose. “Don’t,” he warned. “Not now.”

Theo snorted derisively. “Yes, because you are clearly very busy.” He pushed off the door frame. 

Draco pointedly said nothing, turning back to the fire. He sipped at his whisky once more, doing his best to ignore Theo, who was crossing the room toward the stack of boxes Hisky had left. He focused instead on the familiar burn at the back of his throat as he let his head fall backward against the chair and closed his eyes. 

There was the sound of a box being opened, followed soon after by the soft sounds of someone rummaging through it. Draco tried not to care. 

“As lovely as these decorations are, they would look a lot more festive if you hung them on a tree,” Theo remarked. 

Draco heard the distinctive sound of glass baubles clinking together as Theo presumably continued to investigate the contents of the boxes. Opening his eyes, he rolling his head to the side in order to glare in Theo’s general direction. He was unsurprised to find Theo had one of the baubles in hand; he was turning it with great care, examining with curiosity the way the firelight glinted off its decorative surface.

“We don’t have a tree, Theo,” Draco pointed out.

“We could get one,” Theo suggested, sounding almost hopeful, his eyes flicking to meet Draco’s as an almost teasing smile twitched on his lips.

Draco breathed out slowly, patiently. “We could,” he agreed. 

He didn’t even fully understanding his own hesitation. He had always loved Christmas; it was a season of gifts and luxury, a time for being spoilt, something Draco could certainly appreciate. Now, though, he just felt bereft and uncertain. 

Theo too let out a breath, long and deliberate, as he carefully returned the bauble to the box before approaching his friend. Standing between Draco and the fire, Theo eyed him seriously for a moment. Draco shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under the knowing gaze of his friend. He lifted his glass to drink again, but Theo hastily intercepted, sighing and shaking his head as he took the firewhisky straight from Draco’s hand. 

Draco gasped in outrage, his eyes narrowing into a glare as Theo took a sip. 

“Hm, this is  _ really  _ good,” he remarked, eyeing the glass in his hand with surprise.

“I should hope so,” Draco huffed indignantly. “That is some of father’s finest.”

“Well, I suppose he doesn’t have much use for it anymore,” Theo agreed with a shrug of his shoulders before sipping again. “But seriously, Draco, I’m not going to let you just mope in here all Christmas.”

“And how exactly how do you intend to stop me, while you are off galavanting with Potter and all sorted Weasleys?”

Theo hummed contemplatively. “A fair point I suppose,” he admitted before draining the few drops left in the glass and discarding it on the closest side table. 

Draco shot him an irritated glare, which Theo either didn’t notice or ignored.

“I can, however,” Theo went on, taking Draco’s hand and pulling him to his feet, “at least make sure you have a somewhat festive home to mope in while I’m gone.”

“Yes. I imagine the house being decorated will ensure the whole experience of spending Christmas without company is far more enjoyable,” Draco told him with uninhibited exasperation as he brushed off Theo’s hand and swept angrily out into the hallway. 

“Oh, come on, Draco,” Theo called after him. His footsteps were loud against the hardwood floor as he followed. “Will you please wait.”

Draco didn’t. He kept his eyes forward as he continued determinedly along the hallway and yet Theo was faster. Quickly catching up to him, Theo’s fingers wrapped around Draco’s upper arm, yanking him to an abrupt halt. Draco turned to glare daggers. 

“Do you really not want me to go?” Theo asked before Draco had a chance to find his words. 

The question unexpected, Draco blinked in surprise for several moments before he found his tongue. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he declared dismissively, shaking off his friend’s brutish grasp. 

“Well…” Theo hesitated, his lips pinching together while he apparently convinced himself to continue. “I  _ could _ ask Harry to spend Christmas here?”

A dramatic, outraged breath escaped Draco as his brain was flooded with images of him, Theo and Potter sharing the awkwardest Christmas known to wizardkind. While he had… accepted Theo’s relationship with Potter, that didn’t mean he had any desire to socialise with him. 

“Absolutely not,” he stated firmly. 

“Then I don’t know what you want, Draco,” Theo said, his expression seeming tired.

“What I want is to decorate my home how I see fit,” Draco informed him, his eyes narrowed into almost slits as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Even if that is not at all.”

“Yes,” Theo said dryly, gesturing around at the almost bare walls, “because this subtle and understated look you have going right now is so in keeping with everything about you.”

Draco huffed and turned on his heel, walking away. 

“These times have changed us all, Theodore,” he pronounced loudly as he continued to stide away from his friend. “But get a tree if you must.”

“It’s going to be huge and beautifully festive,” Theo called after him. “Just so you know.”

Draco waved him off dismissively, without a backward glance. It made no difference to him anymore. 

-#-

Draco caught the curiously woody scent in the air as he made his way down to breakfast the next morning. Halfway down the stairs, he abruptly came to a stop. 

He blinked at the only half unexpected sight that met him. 

The tree now standing in the Entrance Hall was indeed huge and beautiful, just as Theo had threatened. Though, overnight it seemed to have become more than a simple threat. At close to eighteen feet tall, the fir tree was as bushy, vibrant and gorgeous as any his mother had ever chosen, filling the vast space the hall had to offer. 

Theo had done well. 

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he made his way down the remaining steps. 

It was strange seeing a tree there now, where it belonged. though still without a single decoration. There wasn’t a single light or bauble, and no star or angel on top. It looked both impressive and ordinary all at once.

Doing his best to ignore the wrongness of it all, Draco made his way to the dining room, where Theo had apparently taken a little prerogative and had the elves hang holly and mistletoe as well. 

However, the plain silver, everyday candelabras still stood where they belonged, along the centre of the large ornate mahogany dining table, so Draco knew Theo had at least left the boxes of decorations in the drawing room untouched. For that, he was begrudgingly grateful.

As he took a seat, his usual cup of tea appeared a few inches from his hand, a glass of orange juice joining it a few seconds later. 

“Poached eggs and toast,” he commanded absently as he picked up his tea, knowing the elves would hear. He wasn’t in the mood for anything heavier. 

“Morning,” Theo greeted as he came sauntering into the room, looking only half awake. 

“Good morning,” Draco returned dryly before sipping his tea. 

He watched his friend take a seat across the table across from him. Putting his teacup back down, he picked up his copy of the Daily Prophet, which had been neatly folded and placed on the table ready for him and shook it open. 

“Was the tree not big enough?” Theo asked. 

Draco peered at him over the top of the paper; Theo’s lip was quirked with amusement.

“It’s lovely,” Draco assured him easily, earnestly, before ducking back behind the paper. “Very festive.”

“Oh good, glad you approve,” Theo told him. “Full fry up, the works,” he added absently to the elves. “Don’t skimp on the bacon.”

They sat in companionable silence as they waited for their food, Draco reading the paper and Theo drinking the coffee which had appeared. It was only a few minutes before a plate of toast and eggs appeared in front of Draco, Theo’s full English breakfast showing up only seconds later. 

“I can help you decorate it later if you would like,” Theo offered as Draco picked up his fork. 

Draco sighed, closing his eyes. He let out a slow breath, lowering his fork once more before meeting Theo’s eye.

The tree did look… wrong, bare, and he could almost feel the boxes of decorations weighing on him. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to put them up; it felt too soon. And so he shook his head. 

“I’ll sort it,” Draco told him vaguely, lifting the fork once more and tucking in.

Theo was obviously skeptical, watching him with concern, but Draco remained stubbornly unfazed, setting to skim reading the Prophet as he ate.

“Suit yourself. But the offer stands if you change your mind,” Theo told him with a shrug before turning his attention to his own food.

-#-

Draco had spent most of the morning hiding out in his office, his head buried in paperwork, but the matter of the undecorated tree had continued to play on his mind despite everything. So a little before noon, he found himself back in the drawing room, standing over the large pile of boxes. 

Running a hand reverently over the top of one of them, he hesitated, uncertain. 

He didn’t need to open the boxes to know what they contained. He remembered the contents of them clearly enough. He had seen these decorations around that very house once a year for the best part of a month, every year of his life. But he didn’t trust himself to put them up correctly and he didn’t think his heart could bear it if he got Christmas wrong. 

But one thing was clear, he couldn’t leave the tree without anything on it at all. It was this that pushed him to open the first of the boxes.

It was a little overwhelming for a moment, being faced with the decorations his mother had cherished so dearly, and yet he knew he couldn’t hope to hang them all. The very idea had his heart hammering in his chest and his breath coming in harsh gasps. Instead, he tried to focus on each item, intending to find just one, of which his mother had been particularly fond. 

The first box held several beautiful ornaments, each of them bringing back memories of Christmases past but none of them were quite right somehow. And so he moved the box aside. 

The second box, was the candelabras and for a moment Draco considered having the elves place them in the dining room, but given he would be spending Christmas dinner dining alone, he didn’t see the point. 

In the third box, however, he found a set of baubles, which had been a gift to his mother from her mother. They were not as old or as valuable as some of the other ornaments, but they were precious in their own way. 

There were six of them, perfectly round, the surface of each seeming to shimmer with that unique glow of a freshly cast spell, each bauble a different colour. They were some of the most magical ornaments he had ever seen, almost an embodiment of magic itself. He had only been around five or six when his mother had received them but he could still remember the delight and wonder that had shone in her eyes when she had first seen them. 

His heart ached with the memory.

Picking them up with the greatest of care, Draco considered them for a long moment before making his way back out of the room and along to the Entrance Hall, to where the tree towered above him. 

“Hisky,” Draco called out primly. 

A small pop announced the arrival of his elf at his side and he held the box of baubles out to the creature expectantly. 

“Place these on the tree,” he instructed. 

“Hisky will be doing as Master Draco commands,” the elf squeaked, bowing deeply before disappearing with the box. 

One by one the baubles appeared upon the tree. The first close was to the top, but each successive one was lower, until the last, which was the gold colour of expelliarmus, was at head height directly in front of him. It wasn’t much, the tree still remained mostly bare, but at least his mother’s most prized ornaments were where they belonged. He hadn’t completely failed her. The rest would just take time.

Taking a tentative step forward, Draco reached out and ran his fingers over the glass, feeling the subtle hint of magic within which kept them from being cold as one would expect. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of the tree, the corner of his lip quirking upward as he let himself just feel for a moment.

“Merry Christmas, Mother,” he whispered. 


	7. Christmas Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #

Still dressed in pyjamas, Charlie yawned and stretched as he made is way down stairs. He’d enjoyed a lazy hour or so just lying in bed before his rumbling stomach had forced him to get up. However he slowed as he heard his parents’ voices below, quietly sneaking the rest of the way to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Honestly, Arthur,” Molly snapped as she chased her husband out of the kitchen and into the living room, impatiently sweeping him toward the fireplace with the broom in her hands. “You are going to be late.”

Charlie smiled fondly, watching them from his safe spot.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Arthur insisted, turning, despite the persistent swatting, to steal a brief kiss. “I love you, Mollywobbles.”

Molly huffed, her hands going to her hips. “I love you too.” 

Charlie could see his mother’s expression softening, her irritation of only moments earlier already fading away. It warmed his heart to know that after everything, his parents love for each other still burned strong. 

“I’ll try to be home promptly tonight,” Arthur told her as he took a pinch of floo powder from the flower pot on the mantle. Throwing it into the fire, he stepped into the suddenly green flames. “Ministry of Magic, Atrium.”

Molly huffed again as he disappeared, the fire returning to normal once more. 

“Promptly, my bloomers,” she muttered sceptically, taking a moment to sweep the stray ashes around the fireplace back toward the grate. 

Charlie chuckled to himself, shaking his head in amusement. He knew his father, who was distracted way too easily, was unlikely to be home on time. Not that his mother would truly mind. 

“Morning, Mum,” he said as he finally stepped down into the living room.

Molly jumped a little, hurried turning, though her startled expression immediately filled with joy at the sight of him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she greeted, leaning the broom against the fireplace and bustling over to him. “Come on, let’s get you some tea and breakfast.”

“Sounds good,” Charlie agreed easily as he was herded toward the kitchen. 

He was in too good a mood to want to remind her, yet again, that he was no longer a child in need of such care. His mother always seemed to take such suggestions as a personal affront. He had to admit though, as he took a seat at the kitchen table, it was rather lovely having someone make tea for him in the morning. 

“So, what are your plans for today?” his mother asked, as she drew her wand, filled the kettled and set it to boil on the stove. “Anything interesting?”

Charlie grinned broadly. “Nothing at all.”

“Nothing?” she questioned, turning to him with surprise as she clunked a frying pan down next to the kettle. 

“Yep,” he confirmed, enjoying her delight. “I’m all yours.”

Letting out an excited breath, she hurried over and embraced him in a smothering hug. Charlie froze in her arms, momentarily surprised but making no attempt to escape. He allowed his mother to hold him and breathed in her comforting, familiar scent. She cupped his cheek as she pulled back, smiling at him affectionately.

“You’ve been so busy lately,” she pointed out before she returned to the stove. 

Charlie’s brow furrowed as he watched her add several sausages and a couple of eggs to the pan. He swallowing down the swell of irritation he’d felt at the almost accusational words. He knew she likely hadn’t meant it as such but she didn’t have a monopoly on his time. 

“I have had one or two siblings to catch up with,” Charlie pointed out, trying to keep his tone light. 

“True,” she agreed, chuckling softly as she pulled a plate down from the cupboard above her and placed it on the counter ready. “But seeing as I have you to myself for the day, maybe you could help me with the baking I need to get started,” she suggested. “Like we used to when you were little.”

He smiled at her warming as the mild annoyance he’d felt seconds earlier melted away. He too had fond memories of baking together. He remembered her helping him and Bill make little Christmas biscuits, he remembered helping Percy make mince pies for the first time, and he would never forget the gingerbread house he’d once spent a whole day making only for the twins to accidentally knock it off the table. 

Charlie had always had a real talent for baking. And yet, it had been many years since he and his mother had made anything together in the kitchen.

“I’d really like that,” he told her earnestly. 

“Wonderful,” Molly tittered excitedly. 

The whistle of the kettle built rapidly to an ear-piercing screech, which tapered off as Molly removed it from the heat and poured the water into a mug he hadn’t noticed her preparing. He watched in silence as she checked on his still cooking breakfast for a minute or two before levitating the tea leaves from his mug into the bin and adding milk. 

Bringing it over to the table, she set it down in front of him.

“Thanks, Mum.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

There was a gentle peace in the air as Molly cooked and Charlie watched, sipping at his perfectly brewed tea. The silence was simply calm rather than awkward. 

It was only as she was plating his breakfast, toasting a couple of slices of bread with a twirling flick of her wand that Molly spoke again. 

“I was planning to start with the gingerbread.”

“Unless we want to prepare pastry for mince pies first,” Charlie countered, as she brought his breakfast over to him. “So it has time to be chilled before we use it.”

“You’re quite right, of course,” she praised. “I have missed having my little helper.”

  
“I’m not really so little any more,” Charlie pointed out. “But,” he said, catching her hand before she could turn away, “I’ve missed it too.” 

She smiled sweetly, resting her other hand over his.

“Eat up, dear,” she instructed. 

Charlie simply nodded, tucking into his breakfast as his mother went to pull on her apron, deftly tying the strings behind her back. 

She was in her element, bustling around the kitchen, pulling various ingredients out of cupboards as he ate and by the time Charlie was done eating, Molly had everything they needed out on the table across from him. 

Ditching his plate in the sink to deal with later, he retrieved an apron of his own from the hook where they hung on the back of the pantry door. 

“Let’s get started,” Charlie told her with a grin as he grabbed a block of butter and a knife. 

His mother nodded her eager agreement.

-#-

“Looks like I’ve missed all the fun,” Bill commented from the kitchen doorway a few hours later.

Charlie paused in putting lids on another batch of mince pies to glance over at his older brother, before sweeping his gaze around the kitchen. There was flour, remnants of pastry and such on almost every surface; almost a dozen plates full to bursting with assorted, freshly baked biscuits on the table; and three large metal racks of mince pies cooling. There was no mistaking what they had been doing.

“We’re not done yet,” Molly assured him, as she checked on the batch of pies in the oven. 

“But don’t go getting any funny ideas about trying to help us,” Charlie quickly added, remembering all too well that Bill, like most of his siblings, was truly a terrible baker. 

“Don’t be mean,” Molly chastised as she removed the cooked mince pies from the oven and replaced them with another patch which they’d had ready to go.

“Don’t worry, your Christmas treats are safe,” Bill assured them, obviously amused and not the least bit offended. “I’m not staying long.” Moving into the room, he took a seat at the kitchen table. “I’m just here to put presents under the tree. Fleur wrapped the last of them this morning and didn’t want us to have to drag them all here on Christmas eve.”

“Smart,” Charlie remarked absently.

“It’s never just to visit your poor old mother,” Molly grumbled half-heartedly. “Tea, dear?” 

“Thanks, Mum,” Bill replied with a smile and a nod.

“So, how are Fleur and Victoire?” Charlie asked as he finished up the last of the pies he was making and turned to face his brother, dusting the flour from his hands as he leaned casually against the counter. 

“Their both good,” he told them, a proud twinkle in his eye as he spoke of his family. “Victoire is seven and a half months already.”

“Wow,” Charlie breathed out. It seemed like no time at all since his brother had become a father and he felt he’d already missed so much of his niece's life; he was glad he would be around more from now on. 

“She started crawling about a week ago.”

“Such a smart child,” Molly declared proudly, turning to Bill as she paused in sorting his tea. “You were always a quick learner too.”

“She gets it from both sides,” Bill insisted with a proud smile. “She’s completely amazing. And even with how exhausted we both are, it’s worth every minute. Though it is nice to escape for a quiet cup of tea occasionally,” he added as Molly handed him a gently steaming mug.

“Just make sure Fleur gets those breaks too,” Charlie suggested with a grin.

“Oh, I do,” Bill assured him. “Fleur is not a woman you want pushed to the edge, trust me. Besides, she is such an amazing wife and mother. She definitely deserves more rest than either of us are getting.”

“Just be patient,” Molly encouraged. “It will get easier. Or at least the challenges will change,” she added with a teasing smile. “But do take a box of pies and biscuits back with you. I’m sure Fleur would appreciate them, and think Charlie and I might have got a little carried away.”

“I think I can manage that,” Bill agreed with a laugh.

-#-

Charlie turned off the tap as he finished the washing up. Grabbing a towel, he dried his hands as he watched his mother stack pies and biscuits into almost every tin they owned. It had taken them most of the day but they were finally done.

“Do you think we have enough?” he questioned sarcastically.

“Even with everything Bill took home, I think these might last us until next Christmas,” Molly remarked, glancing at him over her shoulder as she slid a lid over another full tin.

“So we could spare a few?” Charlie asked hopefully.

“We could,” she said hesitantly, turning fully to eye him curiously. “Why? Did you have someone in mind?”

“Maybe.”

“That was a yes if I’ve ever heard one,” Molly told him with amusement, even as she set to loading another tin with a selection of everything they had made. “And, yes, I’d say we definitely have enough, sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” 

Charlie pushed off the counter and, moving to his mother’s side, pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

“I’m going to go get changed into something a little less flour covered,” he told her. “If you don’t need me for anything else?”

“Of course, go ahead,” Molly assured him. “I’ll get these boxed up.” 

Charlie didn’t have to be told twice. Grinning, he stripped off his apron, dropped it over the back of a chair and hurried out of the kitchen. He took the stairs two at a time up to his room. 

He changed quickly, tugging at his hair as he checked himself over in the mirror. 

Satisfied he looked smart enough, Charlie made his way back downstairs and collected the pre-packed tin from his mother. He did his best to ignore the smug, knowing look she was giving him, and headed out.

“Good luck,” she called after him. 

Charlie just waved back dismissively as he made his way across the yard and out of the gate. At just past the boundary, he took a deep breath to steel himself and disapparated. 

-#-

Malfoy Manor was an impressive sight to behold, its pale brickwork standing tall and regal against the darkening evening sky. However, it was only as he stood at the gates, Charlie realised he wasn’t sure he could get through the wards. Still, having come this far, he had to try.

Pushing at the wrought iron gate, he was momentarily surprised when it swung open with little resistance, allowing him entry to the grounds. 

Stepping through, Charlie hastily started making his way up the elegantly paved driveway, between the perfectly manicured, waist-high hedgerows on either side. When he finally reached the large front door, he attempted to stamp down the butterflies churning in his stomach and knocked.

It was only a few seconds before the large almost-black double doors swung inward, revealing the even more impressive Entrance Hall, complete with towering Christmas tree. Though Charlie was surprised to note, how sparsely decorated it was, if he could call it decorated at all given he could only see a handful of ornaments. 

There didn’t seem to be anybody there but he cautiously stepped inside the manor regardless. 

“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing somewhat in the large space. 

The resonating thunk as the front doors swing closed behind him, seemingly of their own accord, made him jump.

“Weasley?” 

He turned toward the voice, finding Malfoy at the top of the stairs, peering down at him with stunned disbelief. Charlie was more than a little amused by the expression and waited patiently for the handsome blond to shake off his shock and make his way down the stairs.

“What are you  _ doing  _ here?” Malfoy asked with a bemused frown.

“I brought you a present,” Charlie explained, holding out the tin in his hands.

“A present,” Malfoy echoed, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Yeah. I’ve heard it’s kind of traditional this time of year,” Charlie teased. 

Malfoy huffed out a reluctant laugh, shaking his head in disbelief as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“But if you’re not interested…” Charlie made as though to turn away, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“I didn’t say that,” Malfoy interrupted, quickly stepping forward and all but snatching the tin. 

Charlie hid a smile as Malfoy opened it there and then, curious and eager to see the contents. Surprised silver eyes shot up to meet his only seconds later. Malfoy had obviously not been expecting this particular gift. 

“Mince pies and christmas biscuits?” Malfoy questioned. 

“Yep. All freshly baked today,” Charlie confirmed smugly, “with my own two hands. And I’m a good cook, so don’t let that put you off,” he quickly added.

Malfoy, however, didn’t seem to need any reassurance as he lifted the tin to breathe in the scent of freshly baked goods. 

“They… smell delicious,” he complimented, coughing a little awkwardly. “I’m actually impressed, Weasley.”

“It’s Charlie, remember,” he reminded him as he took a step closer to Malfoy and stole a gingerbread wand from the tin. “And you’re welcome,” he almost whispered, pausing long enough to look him right in the eye. “I hope you enjoy them.”

“Thank… you,” Malfoy said uncertainly, seemingly frozen to the spot. 

Shoving the biscuit in his mouth, Charlie turned from the stunned blond and sauntered back to the front doors. They swung open as he reached them and, without a backward glance, he headed out and along the driveway, back toward the wrought iron gates. 


	8. Candy Canes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #

“I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” Harry promised. 

“Take your time,” Theo assured him, knowing that putting Teddy to bed was rarely a quick or easy process. 

Going on tiptoes, Harry pressed a kiss to Theo’s cheek before hurrying off up the stairs to go help Andromeda, who was already giving Teddy his bath. Theo watched his boyfriend go, lingering in the hallway for a few moments longer. 

There was a gentle murmur of voices upstairs, though he couldn’t make out what was being said. Teddy let out an annoyed screech, obviously protesting something, but he wasn’t crying of shouting yet at least, so Theo hoped he wouldn’t give Harry too much trouble.

Knowing he might have a while to wait, Theo made his way through the house and out into the back garden. It was a large garden, surrounded by trees and large flower beds, which seemed randomly planted. Despite the cold winter months, it was still lush and colourful, illuminated by the light filtering out of the back windows of the house. Theo knew magical wards were preserving it. 

Glancing upward, he smiled wryly at the sight of the full moon shining brightly in the clear night sky.

“It often makes him temperamental,” Andromeda remarked. 

His heart jumped slightly at the unexpected interruption. He hadn’t heard her come back downstairs, or follow him out, but calming himself, he simply hummed softly in agreement, turning to smile at her as she joined him. 

He knew she was referring to Teddy. 

Early on in their relationship, Harry had sat him down and explained a lot about Remus Lupin. He only vaguely remembered the man from when he’d been their Defence teacher many years earlier. All he had really known about him was that he was a good teacher and that he was a werewolf. Now he knew Lupin had been best friends with Harry’s late father, had struggled with his Lycanthropy, and died during the war along with his wife, Andromeda’s daughter, leaving behind an orphaned Teddy. 

He also knew that, despite not being a werewolf, Teddy sometimes displayed lycanthropic traits, particularly around the full moons. He had witnessed the mood swings, the temper-tantrums and the occasional aggressiveness for himself.

It didn’t bother him though, not any more, not now he knew the child well, now he’d grown so fond of him. 

“Harry’s best with him on the full moons,” Andromeda added as she moved to take a seat on the garden bench, wrapping her shawl tighter as a breeze swept across the open meadow-like garden.

“Harry is very good with him,” Theo said. “They love each other very much.” 

“They have a special bond,” Andromeda agreed. 

“You and Teddy have a special bond too,” Theo pointed out as he moved to join her.

“And yet it is his godfather who has to put him to bed tonight,” she argued, the hurt plain in her voice, even as the dark of the night hid her face.

Theo scoffed sceptically, taking a seat next to her. 

“That probably has far more to do with you being his primary authority figure, than who he has a stronger bond with.” He shrugged. “Like how a child suddenly will behave for almost anyone who  _ isn’t  _ their parent.” 

Andromeda huffed out a laugh, almost derisive, but she didn’t argue.

“He would probably have let me put him to bed, had I tried,” Theo suggested. “But trust me, that boy loves you more than anyone.”

“You are a very sweet young man.”

Theo was glad for the darkness of night, which hid his rising blush. “Thank you," he said.

“Have a candy cane,” Andromeda instructed suddenly, pulling two from somewhere in her robes and holding them out. 

Theo hesitated, uncertain. He’d never had one before.

“Teddy will likely eat them all otherwise,” she added, all but forcing it into his hand. “And I do not need him having that much sugar.”

Theo chuckled softly, watching with amusement as Andromeda promptly opened the other and popped one end in her mouth. Her gaze drifted back to the bright moon above. 

Curious, Theo opened his, more slowly than Andromeda had, and sucked on the straight end. He was pleasantly surprised by the peppermint flavour, which was not so different, though perhaps slightly stronger, than the Ice Mice Draco had a fondness for. 

This was how Harry found them some ten minutes later, sitting quietly, staring at the moon, both of them sucking on candy canes. 

“Teddy’s out cold,” he told them from the back door as he eyed them with a bemused and slightly concerned expression. 

Theo turned to smile at him, getting up to join him, knowing they would be heading off soon now Teddy was asleep. They rarely stayed long after he was in bed. 

“He had a long day,” Andromeda pointed out. 

“We all have,” Harry said through a half-smothered yawn.

Theo hummed his agreement around the candy cane he was still sucking, his own exhaustion rapidly setting in now he had stopped chasing after the twenty-month old.

They’d gone to the park, despite the cold weather, and Teddy had spent more than an hour charging up and down the slide, as the three of them had taken turns watching over him. They’d baked sugar cookies after lunch, which Teddy had had great fun decorating, making a huge mess of Andromeda’s kitchen. And then they’d gone to a muggle shopping centre, mostly just to get Teddy out of the house again; it had been there the not-quite-two-year-old had seen the candy canes and insisted he had needed them to go on the tree at home.

Andromeda groaned as she pushed herself up from the bench. 

“Given our long day, I might plead old age, throw you handsome, young men out of my house and call it a night.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Harry agreed with a laugh, shaking his head as he led them all back into the house. Theo was on his heel, chuckling in amusement and Andromeda closed the door behind them once they were all inside. 

“And you can take some more of these candy canes with you too,” Andromeda insisted as they passed the kitchen counter where the box of them had been left. “There are already more than enough on the tree to last Teddy all Christmas.” 

“Sure, I’ll take a few to put on the tree at home,” Theo agreed, taking nearly a dozen when Andromeda held the box out toward him, shoving them easily into a pocket in his robes. 

“Won’t Malfoy pitch a fit about something so muggle on his tree?” Harry questioned, only half teasingly.

“Draco was still resisting decorations in all forms at breakfast this morning,” Theo informed him. “It was a miracle he agreed to a tree at all, so we’ll see. Maybe these will prompt him to replace them with his actual ornaments.”

“Very cunning,” Harry remarked, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Indeed,” Andromeda agreed. “And while I do greatly approve of their use in manipulating my nephew into some semblance of festiveness. I am, however, going to bustle the two of you out of my home now, so this old lady can get some rest.”

“Of course,” Theo agreed easily. 

Wrapping his arm around Harry’s back, he guided him toward the front door. He had learned, all too well, how quickly Andromeda’s patience tended to expire. 

“We will leave you to sleep,” he said turning back to her and bowing his head. “Thank you for a lovely day, as always.”

“Oh, hush, hush,” Andromeda told him dismissively but obviously appreciating the sentiment nonetheless. “Now go,” she added bluntly as she all but chased them out the front door, closing it abruptly behind them and leaving them standing on her front step.

“Always such a heartfelt and prolonged farewell,” Harry bemoaned dramatically, one hand pressed to his heart, the other to the front door. 

Theo hummed flatly around the candy cane as he stuck it back in his mouth, drawing a fresh one from insides his robes and holding it out. 

“Candy cane?” he offered. “To lift your spirits… or something.”

“Sure, why not,” Harry agreed, accepting it and turning it over in his hands as they stepped away from the front door. “Want to come back to the flat?” he asked hopefully after a few seconds. 

Theo flashed him a wry, apologetic smile. “I should probably check on Draco,” he explained. “I mean…”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry quickly interrupted. “I understand. I… It’s good you’re checking on him.”

Theo grabbed Harry’s arm, as his boyfriend’s body twisted toward him, he leaned in and pressed his lips insistently against Harry’s. He broke the kiss after only a few seconds to meet his eye. 

“I love you,” he stated firmly, before kissing him again, his arm wrapping around Harry’s waist, pulling him in close, Harry’s body moulding against his own. 

-#-

Theo was still in a good mood as he arrived back at Malfoy Manor half an hour later. He was somewhat regretting not going home with Harry, but he at least knew they would get the whole of Christmas together. 

Pausing in the Entrance Hall as the front door closed behind him, he gazed up at the tree.

He was surprised to find Draco had, in fact, hung a handful of decorations while he had been gone. Not many, maybe half a dozen, but certainly more than he had expected. He drew the rest of the candy canes from his robes. 

“Hisky,” Theo called out and a small pop announced the arrival of the house-elf almost immediately.

“How can Hisky be helping, Sir?”

“Where’s Draco?” he asked without even turning to look at the elf, as he hung all but two of the candy canes on the tree.

“Master Draco is being in his office, Sir,” the elf squeaked.

“Thanks,” Theo said distractedly. 

The creature vanished once more as he dismissively waved his hand in its direction, his attention now on unwrapping one of the candy canes as he turned and headed for the stairs. He popped it in his mouth as he climbed and sucked on it casually as he meandered his way slowly through the manor toward Draco’s office. 

He knocked on the closed door as he reached it.

“Go away, Theo, I’m working.”

“No, you’re not,” Theo argued, rolling this eyes as he leaned against the door. “It’s gone eight. Can I at least come roast in front of that fire with you?”

He sucked on the candy cane as he waited impatiently, for more than a minute, for an answer. However, none came.

“I have something for you,” Theo tried. “Peppermint favoured.”

There was a loud heavy sigh, followed by a loud click of the door lock.

Theo didn’t give his friend time to change his mind, quickly opening the door and slipping into the dimly lit room. The fire was indeed burning fiercely and Draco was behind his desk, stacks of papers in front of him and a sour expression on his face. The curtains were drawn and the lights were low. 

“Wouldn’t hurt you to light a few more candles,” Theo remarked as he took the seat in the empty chair in front of the desk. 

Draco looked up long enough to scowl at him, dropping the document he’d been perusing onto the desk. Theo smiled unrepentantly, tossing the final candy cane onto the desk, straight on top of the papers. 

“What’s this?” Draco asked, unimpressed, hesitantly picking it up and looking at it curiously.

“A gift. Try it,” Theo suggested, sucking on his own once more, as though in a demonstration. “It's sweet, you’ll like it.” 

“You seem quite certain,” Draco said, even as he unwrapped it with great care and sniffed at it sceptically. 

“It’s sugar and peppermint,” Theo pointed out with a shrug. “What’s not for you to like. They’re basically slightly stronger, festively-shaped Ice Mice. And I’ve seen you devour a box of those in an afternoon without any help.”

Draco huffed but cautiously dashed his tongue out against it to have a taste regardless. His nose scrunched as he considered the flavour carefully for a moment before humming his vague approval. He sucked more keenly then.

“I put extras on the tree,” Theo informed him, a little smug. “Feel free to help yourself.”

“This one will do for now,” Draco remarked, shuffling his chair forward a little and returning his attention to the paper on his desk, continuing to suck absently on the candy cane. “Oh, and... help yourself to a mince pie or some gingerbread,” he added without looking up, gesturing vaguely toward the end of the desk closest to the fire.

Theo pushed himself slightly out of his seat as his gaze followed his friend’s indication. 

A tin sat there, open-lidded and clearly containing a variety of baked goods; mince pies, as he had said, but also all-sorted biscuits. His brow furrowed. They looked good, admittedly, but these were clearly homemade, and not by any elf. 

“Draco…” he said slowly as he relaxed back in his chair.

“Weasley brought them,” Draco explained bluntly before he could ask. “Apparently it is my day for gifts.”

“And you ate them?” Theo blurted out in surprise.

Draco looked up, slowly meeting his eyes once more, exasperated. 

“Not  _ that  _ Weasley,” he stated simply. “Trust me, I would never be so foolish as to consume anything that oaf has laid his hands upon. The… dragonologist one,” he added with a dismissive wave of his hand before going back to his papers once more.

“Ooh,” Theo said knowingly, his mouth twitching into an amused smile. “Charlie.” He dragged out the name.

Draco pointedly didn’t react.

“Well, I guess you’ve been chosen,” Theo said smugly. 

He sucked on his candy cane as he waited for Draco’s reaction. It took several long seconds but eventually, his friend raised his eyes from the papers on the desk again. 

“What do you mean, chosen?”

“Only that if a Weasley is bringing you baked goods you might as well accept your fate,” Theo stated calmly, shrugging his shoulders and sucking long and slow on the candy cane again. 

“What are you babbling about?” Draco asked huffily, leaning back in his own chair and crossing his arms over his chest. 

Theo smiled slowly, the corners of his lips twisting into a devilish smirk. 

“I’ve been spending time with them for months, and one of the only things I can tell you for certain about Weasleys is that once one of them has decided that you are one of theirs, they tend not to let go. And baked goods delivered fresh to your front door…” Theo clicked his tongue as he shrugged. “That’s a Weasley welcome wagon if I ever saw one.”

“Preposterous,” Draco dismissed, though his eyes twitched involuntarily to the tin. 

“If you say so,” Theo said as he got to his feet, taking a couple of gingerbread biscuits from the tin on the desk and raising them in his friend’s direction. “Welcome to the family, Draco. Good luck.”


	9. Stockings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #

The last of the Christmas baking finally done, Molly wiped her hands off on her apron, dusting the worst of the flour off on the decorative reindeer fabric. Tugging the strings lose behind her back, she pulled it off and draped it over the back of the closest chair as she left the kitchen. 

She paused in the living room doorway and breathed deeply. 

This was her favourite time of year. And between the smells of Christmas food wafting from the kitchen behind her and the view she currently had of her decorated home, she felt truly in the festive mood. 

The living room was everything she had come to expect her family Christmases to be.

Garlands hung across every wall, sprigs of holly had been tucked into every nook and cranny and magic kept snow permanently piled in the corners of each window and every picture frame. A tree, proportionally far too large for the room, had been squished between the two plush sofas, each of which had been draped with a festive throw. Charlie had been put in charge of decorating the tree, and with assistance from Ron, Hermione and Ginny, had managed to cover it top to bottom with every light, bauble, and sparkly thing they owned, finished off perfectly with the same Christmas fairy they always used, the one Bill had made when he was about two. 

Only the stockings on the fireplace were missing. Well, on the fireplace and surrounding walls, as their family had long since grown far too large for everyone’s stockings to fit on even their large mantle. But it was only two days until Christmas and in just a few hours, her family would be arriving to complete the last piece of the puzzle together.

Arthur, who was slouched in his armchair with one knee hooked over the other, peered out from behind his copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Everything alright, Molly, dear?”

“Everything’s Perfect,” she assured him as she crossed the room, bending to press a simple kiss to his smiling lips. “Kids will be here soon,” she told him, “I’m gonna go change.” 

Arthur hummed and nodded his understanding, and his head was already in the paper once more as she headed for the stairs. 

-#-

The Burrow was bustling with people, everyone trying to greet everyone else as Molly elbowed and meandered her way across the room with another freshly loaded plate of mince pies. As she placed it upon a small side table, Bill appeared next to her.

“Mulled cider?” he offered, holding out a gently-steaming mug. 

Molly wordless accepted it with a fond smile. Breathing in deeply, she took a moment to enjoy the rich and festively aromatic scent, as well as the warmth radiating into her hands.

“Thank you,” she told him before sipping.

“I thought putting something in your hands might stop you from fussing for ten minutes.” 

“William Weasley, I am not fussing,” she chastised. 

Bill laughed. “Of course, Mum,” he said, though his tone was sceptical. He glanced around the room before turning back to her with a grin. “You’ve outdone yourself. The house looks great.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” 

She agreed that the house looked amazing, something she was more than a little proud of, but she couldn’t quite quash her lingering concerns that something would go wrong. She just wanted everything to go perfectly. 

“Hopefully, we’ll have an amazing Christmas.” 

“We always do,” Bill pointed out, reaching out to clasp her arm, his expression serious. “Take a moment and look around.” 

Molly blinked at him for a moment before doing as instructed, her gaze drifting over each of her children. 

Ginny was talking enthusiastically to Ron and George; Hermione was deep in a seemingly serious discussion with Percy; Fleur and Charlie were sitting a short distance apart on the sofa, talking quietly so as not to disturb seven-month-old Victoire, who was curled up asleep on her mother’s lap; Angelina was close to the back door, smiling and nodding along to whatever Arthur was currently rambling around. The only two missing were Harry and his boyfriend, Theo. 

“You brought everyone here together, our whole ever-growing family, and that’s all we really need for a perfect Christmas,” Bill assured her. “Though, admittedly, the decorations and delicious treats are always a nice bonus.”

Molly smiled at him adoringly, knowing her eldest spoke from the heart. 

Bill sipped at his own mug of mulled cider, taking a moment to look around the room himself before turning back to her. 

“You’re still worrying,” he remarked with disappointment.

Molly didn’t even try to deny the truth of that, though would have described it as closer to concern. She frowned at the mug in her hands, sipping it again.

“What’s going on, Mum?” Bill asked in little more than a whisper. 

“I just want to be sure Theo feels welcome,” she explained, looking up to meet Bill’s eye. She glanced briefly toward the fire in the grate, which continued to flicker with normal yellowish flames. “It’s his first Christmas here.”

“Of course he’ll feel welcome,” Bill insisted firmly, looking slightly surprised. He rested his hand on his mother’s arm, drawing her attention to him once more. “You’ve already made Angelina, Hermione, Harry and Fleur all feel completely at home.” 

Molly pinched her lips, her expression pointed. Not willing to voice the thought that had come, unbidden, to mind. Bill, however, seemed to understand regardless, and his expression hardened.

“Theo isn’t any different,” Bill told her flatly. 

“We both know that’s not quite true,” Molly told him quietly, sniffling back threatening tears as she thought of her lost child, of everything the war had cost their family.

“Mum…” Bill let out a long slow sigh, shaking his head. “Just because he was connected to some terrible people, doesn’t mean he…”

“Oh, of course, sweetheart,” Molly interrupted, her cheeks flushing a little at her son’s soft chastisement. “I know that. I do. I didn’t mean…” She trailed off, words failing her. “I just…”

It wasn’t that she thought badly of Theo, he had always seemed like a good kid the few times they had met and Harry was obviously very taken with him. She knew exactly where the blame lay for Fred’s death, and that wasn’t with any teenage boy, certainly not this one. She knew Theo had been little more than a child, and she didn’t blame him for the choices others in his family had made. But it was hard; their family was still recovering from the war and she knew how easily things could turn awkward. 

“I just... want things to go well, for Harry’s sake,” she said quietly.

Bill let out a long breath. “Thing will be fine, Mum. Quit fretting.”

“I am not fretting,” she told him sternly, smiling even as she waved him off dismissively. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 

Bill was clearly unconvinced but a movement on the sofa drew Molly’s attention to Fleur, who was attempting to get to her feet with a sleeping Victoire in her arms. She was instantly grateful for a chance to distract her son, who obviously had more to say. 

“Oh dear, I think your wife could do with a little help.”

As she gestured toward Fleur, Bill followed quickly. He discarded his mostly empty mug on the table next to the mince pies and without a word, hurried off to go assist. 

Left alone, Molly sipped at her mulled cider as she took the time to let her attention drifting over her family once more. She watched as Ginny laughed whole-heartedly at something Ron or George had said, she admired the serious expressions both Hermione and Percy were wearing and she smiled at Charlie as he came back from the kitchen his own mug of cider. 

Both their attention was drawn abruptly to flames in the firegrate as it flared suddenly green. Harry stepped out into the living room half a second later, Theo next to him with a firm grip on his hand.

“Sorry we’re late,” Harry said with a grin, as everyone turned toward him. 

“You didn’t miss a thing,” Charlie assured him, as he came over and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “Though you might want to get yourself a drink before the last of it vanishes.” He raised his mug. “Bill’s done a pretty reasonable job this year.”

“I’ve had enough practice,” Bill retorted. “Somehow it always ends up being left to me.”

“We just don’t trust George anywhere near it,” Angelina pointed out. 

Chuckles and laughter from around the room drowned out George’s mock-offended huff. 

“Yes, go get yourself drinks,” Molly quickly interrupted, ushering them toward the kitchen. Though, as they reached the doorway, she caught hold of Theo’s arm, drawing his attention. “Welcome,” she told him earnestly. “Make yourself at home.”

“Oh. Um, thank you, Mrs Weasley.” Theo bowed his head briefly. “I do really appreciate you having me.”

“Call me Molly,” she insisted, her smile, warm. “And honestly, it’s no trouble at all. We’re glad to have you. You’re important to our Harry here, so this is, of course, where you belong.”

“Thanks, Molly,” Harry replied. He flashed Theo an adoring smile, his eyes bright and his expression happier than she’d seen in some time. 

“Yes, thank you, Molly,” Theo echoed, meeting her eye. 

“You’re welcome. Now, go along, get yourselves some mulled cider,” she encouraged, pushing them onward. 

“Yes, then we can get started,” Harry agreed eagerly as they disappeared into the kitchen.

-#- 

Somehow, despite their large number, everyone had found somewhere to sit; though Harry and Charlie were both perched on the arms of the sofas, and Ginny, Ron and Percy had all resorted to using cushions to make the floor more comfortable. Theo was squished at the end of the larger sofa, next to George, with Harry on the arm next to him. 

“Everybody comfortable?” Arthur questioned as he wandered over to the Christmas tree, pulling a somewhat aged, but still ornate, wooden box from beneath it. 

“Not really,” Ron grumbled, shuffling on the spot. “Think we need another sofa, Dad, my arse is going numb already,”

“If you ask nicely, maybe Hermione will let you sit on her lap,” George suggested with a devilish grin. 

Hermione, however, scowled, huffed and threw him a glare. “Maybe he can sit on your lap, given it was your grand idea.”

Far from discouraged, George just grinned wider, patting his knees. “Sure! Lots of room for your lanky-arse up here, Ronnie-kins.”

Molly saw Ron open his mouth to retort.

“Boys!” she exclaimed loudly over the sound of smothered laughter. She was not about to let things get out of hand, at least not this soon into Christmas. “That’s enough,” she added sternly.

She waited until Ron’s mouth snapped closed, and glance to George to make sure he was holding his tongue before turning back to Arthur. 

“Please continue, dear.”

“Yes... right...” he said, refocusing on the box in his hands. “Now, before we get started, we have someone with us who hasn’t been a part of this before.”

All eyes turned to Theo, who looked more than a little alarmed at suddenly being the centre of attention. He glanced to Harry for support. The smile Harry gave him was earnest, and he nodded, squeezing Theo’s hand encouragingly. 

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing too terrifying,” Angelina assured gleefully. “Fleur, Hermione, Harry and I all survived it.”

Molly thought Theo didn’t seem overly comforted by this.

“It’ll be fine,” Harry promised quietly, rolling his eyes at Angelina’s teasing and not entirely helpful words. 

Arthur meanwhile had placed the box on the coffee table, waiting for attention to return to him. As the family quietened, Arthur opened it. He lifted out a present, carefully wrapped in red and white paper and tied securely with a simple gold ribbon. 

“Molly made you something,” he said as he approached Theo. “It’s a traditional little welcome to our family.”

“Oh,” Theo said, blinking at him in surprise as he accepted the gift. “This really wasn’t necessary. I am already incredibly grateful to be included.” 

“Just open it,” Harry encouraged eagerly, grinning now as he nudged him with his elbow. 

Theo hesitated for just a moment, looking around uncertainly at his audience before tugging gently at one end of the ribbon. It came loose easily and he was able to pull open the wrapping paper, revealing the knitted fabric inside. He lifted it by the white fluffy trim and instantly recognised it as a stocking, his name embroidered across the front. 

“You made this?” Theo asked. “For me?”

“Of course she did. Mum’s made one for everyone,” Ginny confirmed before Molly had a chance to answer.

Arthur opened the box once more and emptied the contents onto the coffee table. Most of the family moved forward at once, diving in to dig through the small pile to find their own stockings. Hermione found hers first, with George and Angelina finding theirs next, and they moved over to the fireplace, attacking them, with an easy spell, to the wall around it.

Theo, however, remained where he was. 

“You won’t get the special treatment again next year,” Harry told him, standing and holding out his hand. “Yours will get dumped in with everyone else’s and you’ll get to join in that free for all.” He gestured toward the others, who were mostly gathered around the fireplace now, stockings either in hand or already hung. 

Theo took his hand. “Next year?” he asked as Harry pulled him to his feet.

“Oh…” Harry’s cheeks flushed red. “I mean, you don’t have to come here next year, but…” He ran his hands through his hair and shrugged. “...you’ll always be welcome.”

“That’s…” Theo floundered for the right words, the sincerity of the gesture starting to sink in as he looked at the stocking in his hands once more. “That’s so nice.”

Harry grinned. “That’s the Weasleys for you. Come on.” He tugged on Theo’s hand, leading him to the now mostly covered wall. 

Leaving space for Theo’s, Harry hung his stocking first. 

Molly came to stand at Theo’s other side, her own stocking in hand. She hung hers in the spot she always used, just above the fireplace, next to Arthur’s. Theo still seemed hesitant though. 

“Go ahead,” she encouraged. 

Theo nodded, doing as instructed. He took a moment to admire it hanging among the others on the wall, his own name there in the middle of everyone else’s, as though it belonged. 

“I hope you like it?” Molly asked. She had debated over the colours for some time before settling on the traditional Christmas greens and reds. 

“I love it,” Theo assured her earnestly, grasping Harry’s hand in his own. “It’s wonderful. And at the risk of sounding like a broken record, I’m very grateful.”

Molly’s smile broadened. “You’re welcome. And Harry  _ is  _ right. You’re one of us now, one of the family, so you will always be welcome to join us.”

“Thank you,” Theo said. “I think I’ll definitely be taking you up on that.”


	10. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit more intense than the rest of the story. I don't think it is likely to cause problems for anyone but I have put warnings at the end of the chapter (to avoid spoilers for those who don't want them). So you might want to check those out before reading.
> 
> Thank you to the reader who pointed out the small consistency error in this chapter regarding Hermione's wand, it should now be fixed.
> 
> #

Hermione had come to adore Christmas at The Burrow. 

Almost all of her childhood Christmases had been spent with her Mum and Dad, either in their family home or else travelling to new and interesting places. They had been joyful times, full of love and happiness. She wouldn't give those memories up for the world, particularly now she saw so little of her parents, since they had decided to stay in Australia. 

But a Weasley Christmas was always something else altogether. They never did things by halves. And they never failed to make her feel like she belonged. 

This year, as per usual, the whole family had gathered in the Weasley family home to spend the evening before Christmas Eve together and kick of the holiday in earnest. They talked, drank, ate, played games, and completed the extensive decorations by hanging stockings. 

But it had been a long evening, and it was getting late. 

Bill and Fleur had already taken their daughter up to bed several hours earlier and Molly and Arthur had headed up not long after them. That had left the rest of the Weasley siblings and their spouses to have a few more drinks, play a few games, and talk a while longer. None of them got to spend much time together as a family anymore, so were embracing the opportunity. 

Hermione, however, was rapidly falling asleep on the sofa, her eyes feeling heavy and her body slouched against Ron’s, her head resting on his shoulder. She realised she must have been actually drifting off, when Ron nudged her, jolting her awake. 

“Bedtime?” he suggested.

She glanced at the clock, surprised to see it was already gone eleven. Knowing they would all have to be up early the next morning for the Christmas Eve festivities, she nodded sleepily, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand as she did so. 

“Think it is definitely bedtime,” she agreed, allowing Ron to help her up onto her own two feet.

Harry, who was cuddled into Theo’s side, was the first to spot them.

“Calling it a night?” he asked, drawing everyone else’s attention to them as well.

“Already?” George questioned, obviously disappointed.

“Hermione’s falling asleep,” Ron explained. “And I’m definitely not sober enough to carry her up later.”

“Sorry,” Hermione told them, before yawning widely once more. 

“It’s fine, Hermione, go sleep,” Angelina assured her. “George is just being a brat. I’m going to drag him up to bed before long anyway.”

“Promises, promises,” George said salaciously, cuddling a little closer to his wife.

“Thanks,” Hermione said, ignoring George with practiced ease. 

Her attention, however, was drawn back to Ron as he took her hand. Wrapping his other arm around her back, he began leading her off in the direction of the stairs. 

“Night,” she bid them all.

Overlapping voices called out, wishing them both goodnight.

Despite knowing exactly where she was going, Hermione allowed Ron to guide her, the gentle pressure of his arm against her back, of his hand against hers, a simple comfort. She was exhausted and every thought, every step felt sluggish. She was more than happy to allow her husband to lead the way, so long as she got to sleep soon. 

"You didn’t have to come with me,” Hermione assured him as they reached the stairs. “I wouldn’t have minded if you’d wanted to stay down here a while longer.”

“I think it’s best I see you up to bed,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled fondly. 

Hermione huffed softly. “I’m perfectly capable of putting myself to bed. I’m not the one who was drinking whisky with George and Harry."

Ron squeezed her hand, stopping and turning to face her halfway up the first flight. 

“I know that,” he told her earnestly. “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing your not capable of doing, but still...” Ron wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, “...I’d rather come to bed with you than leave you to crawl into our cold bed alone.”

A smile broke out on Hermione’s face. She leaned in and kissed him briefly. 

“When did you learn to be so sweet?” she questioned teasingly.

Ron shrugged, with a hint of a smirk. “No idea.”

“Well, come on.” She tugged on his hand, the pair of them carrying on up the stairs toward the second floor. “Let’s both go get some sleep.”

“Works for me,” Ron agreed easily as they headed to his childhood bedroom.

-#-

Hermione grumbled tiredly in protest as she was physically shaken from sleep. 

“Hermione!” someone exclaimed close by. 

Shrugging off the firm hand on her shoulder, she rolled over onto her other side and curled up, trying to pull the covers more snuggly around her body. However, her attempts we foiled as the covers were tugged from her grip and down to her waist.

“No… don’t...” she whined sleepily, not opening her eyes.

“Hermione! Come on.” 

She recognised the voice as Ron’s, and he sounded far too awake. Hermione’s tired brain was slow to process his words. Though she felt even more disoriented when he abruptly hauled her body upright so she was sitting up in bed. 

“We have to go!” he insisted. “Now!”

Groggily, she blinked at him, her body feeling heavy in his arms as she fought off sleep. 

“What’re you doin’?” she managed to mumble as she forced her eyes as open as they would allow. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

She managed to focus on Ron. He was so close to her, holding her up, his eyes wide, desperate, and pleading. 

“There’s a fire. We have to go. Now!”

“What?” Hermione questioned with confusion, even as she allowed her husband to drag her out of bed and onto her unsteady feet. 

It was only then that Ron’s words began to slowly filter into her brain. She was still wrapping her head around everything as she was guided urgently across the room toward the already open door. Only then did she pick up on the distinct smell of smoke and burning, which seemed to be filtering up through the rest of the house. 

“Fire?” she stammered out as they reached the hallway, though the thick smoke already filling the corridor answered her question before Ron could. 

Ginny came out of the door across the corridor from them and Charlie, George and Angelina quickly joined them from the room down the hall. All of them were in pyjamas, and other than Charlie, looked as dazed, alarmed, and half-asleep as Hermione felt.

“Go!” Charlie urged as he came toward them. 

He had a bubble of breathable air around his whole head, and with a swift flick of his wand, he cast a Bubble-head charm on Ginny, before repeating the spell on her and Ron. As he did, Anglina and George copied him, casting the charm on each other. 

“Move!” Charlie shouted as he barged past them all and grabbed Ginny’s hand. “Stay close and keep moving.”

Hermione was certain she had never seen him so terrified and that alone was enough to kick her into action. Taking Ron’s hand and gripping it tightly, she followed Charlie and Ginny as they hurried down the stairs, Ron only half a pace behind her. She could hear George and Angelina right on their heels as they headed down into the smoke-filled hallway below.

The air was thick and heavy, the smoke increasingly clouding her vision, and her heart hammered in her chest as she did her best to keep up with Charlie and Ginny. Hermione knew it was only the Bubble-head charm allowing them to breathe so easily and she was just glad no flames had reached them yet, even as the air grew hotter. 

Hermione trailed her hand along the wall for guidance, Ron all but pressed against her as they hurried down the next flight of stairs, leading down to the ground floor. 

There, there were flames, the walls alight and burning furiously. The air was so thick with smoke Hermione couldn’t see Charlie and Ginny any more and the heat was almost unbearable, pressing in as though a physical weight upon her. 

Waving her hand futilely in front of her face, she ducked her head and pushed onward, making her way vaguely in the direction of the closest door. She couldn’t find it, however. The house, which was normally so familiar to her, suddenly felt strange and disorientating. She was beyond grateful when Ron took the lead, his hand holding hers tightly as he pulled her more to the right. 

The already open door appeared before them and they all but stumbled out the backdoor into the garden. 

Smoke was billowing out the door after them as they back away from the house, George and Angelina making it outside barely a few seconds after them.

Hermione was vaguely aware of the other Weasleys gathered around her but all she could do was watch on in horror as The Burrow burned. Bill, Harry, Theo and Percy were shooting water at the house from their wands, attempting to subdue the flames, though the inferno raging through the building had obviously already damaged it beyond any simple repair. 

Still, Charlie, George and Angelina hurried to help. Hermione reached for her own wand but cursed under her breath as she realised it had been forgotten in their haste. 

“I forgot mine too,” Ron remarked from her side, unable to tear his eyes from the blaze. 

Looking around, Hermione did a quick mental tally. Molly was sobbing quietly as she clung to Arthur; Ginny, Fleur and Victoire were at her other side watching in silence; and everyone else was fighting the fire. 

Her heart continued to pounded viciously in her chest, despite her relief at seeing everyone had made it out. 

“Bill, don’t get to close,” Arthur warned sternly as his eldest son moved to tackle the fire from another angle.

“They’ve got it, Dad,” Ginny assured him, her voice soft and trembling. Her face as pale and drawn as Ron’s and she was obviously in shock, .

Hermione mentally scrambled trying to find anything to say but words eluded her completely. Instead, she stepped closer to Ron and tucked herself into his side, both offering and taking all the comfort she could. 

-#-

It took several hours for their combined efforts to fully extinguished the fire. And as the morning of Christmas Eve dawned, most of the Weasley family sat in the garden, exhausted, shocked and devastated. 

Hermione’s head rested against Ron’s shoulder, his arm around her holding her close. Her eyes felt raw, though whether that was from smoke or from forcing herself to remain awake, she wasn’t sure. Warming charms shimmered around them but even that magic couldn’t keep the creeping cold of winter at bay.

“I found them all,” Charlie announced as he cautiously stepped back out of the blackened ruin of the Burrow, several wands clearly visible in his left hand. 

Hermione could see her own among them and as Charlie handed hers back to her, she was endlessly grateful they were so resistant to damage. It would take more than a mere house fire to destroy an Ollivander’s wand. They had agreed, however, that the wands would be the only things they would try to retrieve straight away. Everything else could wait or be replaced.

“What do we do now?” Ginny questioned as her brother handed the rest of the wands to their owners. She glanced over to Fleur, who was leaning against the small garden wall. Victoire was on her lap, asleep and wrapped in a transfigured blanket. “We can’t just sit here all day.”

“I’m not even sure where to start,” Percy said as he stared at the house.

“I think the priority has to be working out where to go. It is going to take at least a few weeks to get the house livable again,” Bill informed them, sighing tiredly as he looked back to the burnt-out wreck. 

Hermione’s first thought was that at least magic would be able to restore most of the house and its contents. And in a comparatively quick time, compared to the muggle options. However, she kept her thoughts to herself, knowing they would be of little comfort to any of the Weasleys. Most of them had their own homes to return to but Arthur, Molly and Charlie had lost everything.

“Until then we need to figure out accommodation arrangements,” Arthur agreed.

“Grimmauld Place?” Bill suggested uncertainly. 

“It’s not exactly habitable,” Harry told them apologetically. “The doxy infestation was already out of control last time I checked, and that was more than six months ago. Though we can try to make it work if need be, of course.”

“How about we call that a final resort,” Arthur told him with a smile. 

“You and Mum can stay with us, Dad,” Bill offered earnestly. “Shell Cottage might not be big enough for everyone but at least you’d have a roof over your heads. And if you don’t mind the sofa, Charlie...”

“Charlie can stay at ours if he wants,” Ron offered before turning to Hermione. “Right?”

“Of course,” she assured them all without hesitation. “We’d be happy to have you. There would be no point you all squashing into Bill’s cottage when we have a perfectly good guest room at ours.”

“Thanks,” Charlie told them with a grateful nod.

“Then it’s agreed...” Molly started to say. However, she was interrupted as Theo got to his feet, shaking his head.

“No. No, this isn’t right,” he proclaimed. Everyone turned curious expressions toward him. “It is a great plan, I don’t mean to suggest otherwise, but it’s Christmas Eve. It just doesn’t seem right for you all to go back to your separate homes and spend Christmas apart.”

“It’s not like we want to celebrate separately,” Ginny pointed out huffily. “But in case you didn’t notice, our family home just burnt down.”

“It’s a bit draftier and more soot-covered than our usual Christmas aesthetic,” George snarked, gesturing toward the remains of the house. 

“And given how many of us there are, we don’t exactly have many other options,” Percy reminded him haughtily. 

“It’s was a nice thought, Theo, thank you,” Bill said calmly, clearly attempting to defuse the situation before the tension could escalate too far. “But the simple fact of the matter is, no one else we know has a home large enough to house us all.”

“Unless you’ve got some secret mansion you feel like sharing?” George challenged. 

Rather than appearing defeated, however, Theo’s mouth stretched into an increasingly smug grin. 

“I do have one idea.”

Harry blinked at Theo in surprise and Hermione watched his expression change as he obviously figured out what Theo meant. 

Harry scoffed. “He would never agree.” 

“I am pretty certain I can convince him,” Theo assured him confidently. “Besides, he owes me a favour or two.”

“Who?” Angelina asked curiously, voicing the question on all their minds. 

“A friend,” Theo told her cryptically. “But believe me, his house is plenty big enough for all and could probably do with a bit of Weasley festive cheer.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter involves a house fire. Nobody is hurt during the fire, but the property is seriously damaged.


	11. Hot Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this one is two days late, but it's been a manic few days of Christmas baking, cooking, family time, travelling and migraines, so I simply didn't have the hour or so I needed to sit down and edit this one properly.  
> BUT it is done now and so you not only get this chapter today, but also the next one too, as it was originally supposed to be posted today anyway.  
> ENJOY!
> 
> And I will be back with the final chapter on Christmas Day.
> 
> #

Draco rarely slept much anymore but it was even harder to sleep in an empty house, particularly with the prospect of Christmas alone hanging over him.

It was certainly not the first time Theo had stayed elsewhere that year but his absence felt extra potent given the season. Draco had grown used to his friend’s frequent company and constant need to remark on everything, and was often even glad for it. The quiet gave him too much space to remember everything he had lost.

He, therefore, had been unsurprised to wake up at the crack of dawn on Christmas Eve, feeling incredibly alone.

Not wanting to lie there and mope until the sun was fully risen, he dragged himself wearily from his bed. He washed, dressed and headed straight down to the Dining Room for an early breakfast. 

He took his time, having no desire to hurry on to the rest of his day. Eating slowly, he read each and every article in the paper, though admittedly some more thoroughly than others; there was really only so much detail he needed to know about the new legislation the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office had decided to implement. 

When he could truly extract nothing further of interest from either his half eaten meal or the paper, he relocated to the Drawing Room. 

He settled himself in the armchair in front of the fire, a cup of tea appearing on the small table next to him, and turned to the first page of his new book, an early Christmas present to himself. Theo had pointedly left a gift for him to open on Christmas morning but other than that, this was to be his only present that year. 

Draco tried not to let such things bother him, given a lack of presents was no hardship at all compared to everything he had endured in the last few years; but still he found himself mourning the years of decadence he had experienced in his youth.

He was at least determined, though, to make use of his alone time in order to enjoy his book in peace. However, before he was even halfway through the first chapter, the doorbell rang. 

Looking up, Draco frowned. He racked his brain, trying to determine who it could possibly be. 

The last time anyone had shown up at the Manor it had been Charlie Weasley with his unreasonably delicious cookies. Though it seemed highly improbable he would be there again, least of all on Christmas Eve. Draco was certain Charlie must have better things to be doing than visiting him; after all, there were still plenty Weasleys left. And if Draco remembered correctly, Potter and Theo were there celebrating with them all. 

Putting his book and bitter thoughts to one side, Draco made his way quickly, with long strides, toward the Entrance Hall.

When he yanked open the front door, however, he certainly hadn’t expected to find Theo standing on the other side, looking uncertain. 

“Theo?” he greeted with confusion.

“Merry Christmas,” Theo told him, grinning unashamedly. 

Looking past him, Draco’s surprise only grew. He supposed his thoughts of Charlie hadn’t been as far off the mark as he had expected; though he doubted he could ever have predicted this particular turn of events, no matter how many guesses he was granted.

His brow furrowing into a pinched, concerned expression, he slowly turned back to Theo. 

“Two questions,” he stated, eyes narrowed at his friend. “One, why are you knocking when you live here? I thought we were past such nonsense. And two, perhaps more importantly, what in Merlin’s name are all these Weasleys doing on my property?”

“Early Christmas present?” Theo suggested with a shrug, his grin turning bashful. 

Draco didn’t laugh. 

“And I knocked because I wanted to see your reaction, of course. Honestly…” Theo appraised him, “...you look significantly less annoyed than I expected.”

“Believe me, I am plenty annoyed on the inside,” Draco informed him flatly. “You need to start explaining.”

“I’m calling in a favour,” Theo told him. 

Draco scoffed. “For this many Weasleys, I think it might cost you multiple favours.”

Theo chuckled, glancing over his shoulder toward the Weasley family, who were all watching the interaction with interest. Draco spotted Potter stood with Weasley and Granger and had to remind himself that Potter was the reason Theo was involved with these people in the first place. 

Stupid Potter somehow still messing with his life.

“That’s probably fair,” Theo agreed. “There are quite a few of us.”

Draco held back a sneer at his use of the word ‘us’ but then he had already known Theo was being drawn into the Weasley madness. Potter seemed to make him happy, though, for some inexplicable reason, so who was he to argue with Theo’s wishes.

“Maybe I should come inside and explain,” Theo suggested. 

With a sharp nod, Draco agreed. “You can all wait here,” he told the Weasley family before turning and striding back inside. He left Theo to follow and close the door behind him.

Waiting until he heard the door click closed, he rounded on his supposed best friend. 

“What in Merlin’s name, Theo?” he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. “Potter, Granger and presumably every Weasley you could find?” 

“I did bring Charlie, I know he’s your favourite Weasley.” 

“Theo!” Draco snapped irritably not in the mood to joke. “What are they doing here?”

“Okay.” Theo held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll try to explain quickly before you end up with ice statues of Weasleys decorating the garden.”

“Good idea,” Draco agreed, gesturing vaguely for him to continue, before the last of his thin patience expired. 

Theo let out a breath. “Their house burnt down last night. And before you suggest it, it wasn’t me,” he added dryly. “But it has been completely destroyed along with almost everything inside.”

“That’s… unfortunate,” Draco agreed, a sinking feeling in his gut that he knew exactly where this was leading. 

“I was hoping you’d agree for them to spend Christmas here. At Malfoy Manor.”

Draco sometimes hated being right. He said nothing, knowing his furious expression would say it all. He waited for Theo to go on. If Theo wanted this, he would have to make his case and convince him, because he wasn’t about to let a dozen reckless Gryffindors loose on his ancestral home without good reason. 

“You should have seen them, Draco; the way they celebrate, how much Christmas means to them, how united they are, how much they all love each other,” Theo informed him imploringly. “And they just openly welcomed me among them.” 

Theo did seem truly moved, and obviously have great concern for their happiness. Draco, however, found it hard to feel too much sympathy; yes, they might have lost their home, but at least they still had each other. 

“And last night,” Theo went on, “they had to watch it all burn before their eyes.” 

“Tragic,” Draco said unemotionally.

“I know you don’t care for any of them but I do,” Theo explained, his hand pressed against his heart. “This Christmas was important to me. I want it to be perfect for Harry. And now you’re the only hope they have to be able to spend Christmas together as a family. You know I wouldn’t have come here if I could think of any other option.”

“Figures. You’re just trying to be Potter’s hero,” Draco claimed bluntly. “Save his precious family Christmas.”

“Okay,” Theo admitted, “maybe that’s part of it. But it is more than that. Besides,” he paused to grin, “this way you get to spend Christmas with Charlie, instead of moping around here alone.”

A strangled, outraged breath escaped Draco’s throat, as he stared at his friend in disbelief. 

“This is not something you are doing out of concern for me,” Draco stated. “So don’t even try that one. This is entirely for you and the hoard of peasants you have lumbering all over my garden.”

“Maybe. But there could be benefits for you too. I’m sure Charlie could be convinced to bake more of his gingerbread,” Theo pointed out tauntingly. 

Draco huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Admittedly a potential perk.”

“And you would get to spend Christmas with me,” Theo added hopefully.

“Thought you were trying to convince me this was a  _ good _ idea,” Draco grumbled half-heartedly.

“Draco... please. It’s just two days and two nights. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Glancing back across the Entrance Hall toward the front door, Draco had to admit that the idea of not having to spend the next couple of days alone was, in itself, tempting. And having Theo in his debt could be advantageous. Not to mention Charlie Weasley’s biscuit tin was currently up in his office, already empty, barring a few crumbs. 

“Fine,” Draco huffed. “But you owe me. Big Time. And I want all trace of them gone from my home by noon on Boxing Day.”

“Deal!” Theo promised eagerly, already hurrying back to the front door.

Draco, however, took his chance to escape, heading off in the opposite direction. He needed a drink, and something far stronger than tea. 

-#- 

By the time Draco had returned to the drawing room, Hisky had traded out his cup of cold tea for a generous glass of brandy. After a generous sip, he returned his attention to his book, doing his utmost not to dwell on the invasion of his home. 

And for about two hours, he was fairly successful, making it well into chapter four without interruption. However, as he lifted his glass to drink again, he found it already gone.

“Hisky,” he called out.

A distinct pop announced the elf’s arrival. 

“Master Draco.”

“Bring me another,” he instructed without a glance to the creature at his side, his attention already back on his book. 

“Is that being wise, sir?” Hisky questioned.

Draco blinked at the page in front of him before turning slowly to glare at the elf. She was wringing her hands, shifting on the spot and was obviously anxious. But still, her large green eyes implored him. 

“Hisky did already be refilling it once,” Hisky informed him. “But Master Draco be having guests.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Draco demanded. 

The elf hesitated, though still held his gaze. “Hisky doesn’t want Master Draco vulnerable,” she all but whispered. 

His eyes turned sharp, as he pondered whether the elf had a valid point. He supposed it wouldn’t do to end up drunk in front of any of his current guests. It was too dangerous. 

“I can be bringing you delicious hot chocolate.”

Draco hesitated for a moment before gruffly agreeing. “Fine.” 

Only then did the elf disappear with a pop.

Lounged back in his chair, Draco wondered when his life had come to this; being dictated to by elves, bending to Theodore Nott’s bizarre requests and allowing not only Potter and Granger into his home but the entire Weasley family. He was certain his father would be turning in his grave. Not that Draco put much stock in his late father’s expectations anymore. 

A large steaming mug of hot chocolate appeared next to him only seconds later. Picking it up and cradling it between his hands, he held it close, taking a moment to relish the warmth and the rich aroma, before raising it to his lips and sipping deeply. 

He felt himself relaxing. It was as good as always; Hisky’s speciality. 

“That good?”

Draco sat up abruptly, barely managing to not spill his drink as he turned to glare at the unexpected intruder. Charlie Weasley was leaning in the doorway, watching him with obvious interest. He seemed taller than Draco remembered, arms crossed over his chest and his long legs crossing at the ankles. His feet were shoeless, covered with just socks and he was wearing what seemed to be pyjamas. 

Not trusting his voice to obey him at that moment, Draco sipped at his hot chocolate once more rather than responding.

“Thanks, by the way,” Charlie said after several quiet, though not uncomfortable, moments. “For letting us stay here I mean.”

Draco blinked at him. He had known the Weasleys would be grateful but hadn’t expected to actually hear it from any of them directly. 

“You’re welcome.”

“I was just heading back down to the living room,” Charlie explained, gesturing to the corridor behind him. “Theo showed us our rooms. They’re lovely, by the way. Your whole house is amazing.”

“Oh… Um. Thank you.”

Draco had no idea what else to say. He agreed, of course, Malfoy Manor was precious to him, all he had left of his ancestors, but it had been a long time since anyone other than he or Theo had been allowed to enjoy it. 

“So…” Charlie looked around the room before back to Draco, “...you busy or are you going to come join us?” 

“Oh. No.” Draco shook his head, relaxing back into the armchair again, one knee over the other. “I wouldn’t want to intrude. Christmas is a time for family.”

A loud, disbelieving snort of laughter burst from Charlie and Draco bristled, offended. 

“Sorry,” Charlie told him, shaking his head and trying to smother his own laughter, an amused smile still twitching at his lips. “Sorry. It’s just… this is your home. You have been  _ incredibly _ generous by allowing us to even be here, let alone allowing us to stay. And you think  _ you  _ would be intruding?”

Draco opened his mouth to retort but fell short, snapping his jaw closed. 

When put like that it did sound a little ridiculous. But he wasn’t sure it was possible for him to find his place among Charlie’s family, wasn’t sure they could accept him as they had Theo. There was too much history between Weasleys and Malfoys for anything to be that simple.

“You can bring your hot chocolate,” Charlie said, gesturing to the mug Draco was all but clinging to, as though that was what was holding him back. 

“I’m perfectly happy here with my book, thank you very much.” To make his point, Draco put down his drink and picked up his book once more. 

“A book isn’t any kind of company for Christmas,” Charlie argued, and Draco saw out of the corner of his eyes as he pushed off the doorframe and headed over. “Come on, Draco. I am sure Theo would appreciate some Slytherin backup if nothing else.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Draco questioned with a weary sigh, closing his book once more.

“Nope. I cannot in good conscience leave you here alone.”

Draco’s brain screamed at him to tell Charlie to just stay with him then, that he had no objections to the current company. But he caught himself, smothering the thought. Instead, he simply nodded, got to his feet, placed his book back on the table 

“Very well then,” he said haughtily as he headed toward the door.

“What about your hot chocolate?” Charlie asked, hurrying to keep pace with him. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Draco instructed dismissively. “We’ll have Hisky bring fresh cups to the living room for everyone.


	12. Christmas Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter for today's update, the one that was originally intended for today.
> 
> #

As Charlie wandered through the long hallways of Malfoy Manor with Draco at his side, he found himself admiring almost everything. He’d heard talk of the enormous home before, after all the Malfoys were somewhat notorious in wizarding Britain, but nothing had prepared him for the magnitude of the place, nor how ornate everything would be. 

While this was hardly the first grand building he’d been in, he had never seen a private home quite like this one. 

He had already had the privilege of being shown around a few key rooms. He had briefly seen the large lounge they were heading to now, with its three sofas, two matching armchairs, and impressive fireplace and from there Theo had taken them straight to the dining room, where he had instructed the elves to bring them each a full English. 

They’d also been offered their choice of the guest bedrooms, and none of them had quite been able to believe the sheer number of them. Not fussed and just glad to have a room over his head and his family close by, Charlie picked the first one that no one else was quickly laying claim to. 

It was then that Theo quietly gave him directions to the Drawing Room, and correctly warned him that it was likely occupied by a grumpy blond. Though it hadn’t been too hard to convince him to join them. 

“These are all your ancestors?” he asked, gesturing to the portraits of regally dressed witches and wizards which lined the walls on either side of them as they walked. 

“Most of them,” Draco confirmed dismissively. “Though a few were simply family connections of importance.”

“Some of these look seriously old.” Charlie paused for a moment to peer at the inscription at the bottom of one of the darkest paintings. “Cynefrid Malfoy, twelve thirty-four.” He whistled as he jogged a few paces to catch back up with Draco. “And here was me thinking some of Mum’s decorations were old.”

Draco shrugged. “Never thought about it much. Though I know every portrait in this hallway is younger than the majority of this house.”

Charlie whistled again, impressed despite himself. Though it sent a pang of grief through him as he thought of The Burrow, currently a burnt out wreck, exposed to the elements. He just hoped magic would be able to restore most of his own family history, much of which had been consumed by the fire along with everything else. 

“Must be nice living surrounded by such rich and detailed history,” he remarked, keen to keep Draco talking, out of genuine interest as much as his desire for a distraction. 

“Sometimes,” Draco admitted with rather forced half a smile, clearly more on his mind than he was willing to share. “Comes with many ghosts too. Though thankfully not many literal ones.”

“Good to know,” Charlie said with a chuckle, surprised as he had been in Diagon Alley, by Draco’s sense of humour. 

By the time they reached the living room, most of the family were already comfortably settled and sipping at hot chocolate, a few spare mugs steaming on the tray in the middle of the coffee table. 

Charlie was impressed by the service the Malfoy elves provided. They’d simply heard Draco’s words earlier as they’d left the drawing room and seen to it without direct instruction. 

“Where’s everyone else?” Charlie asked as he took one of the mugs from the table and tucked himself into one of the empty armchairs. 

“Ron and Hermione decided to get some sleep,” Harry, who was sat on the smallest sofa with Theo, informed him.

“Bill and Fleur are still upstairs too. Think they’re trying to settle Victoire,” Ginny added with a forced smile. “She was pretty upset when she woke up. They could be a while.”

Charlie nodded his understanding of that. It had been a long and emotionally draining night for them all, and he could only imagine how his seven-month-old niece was feeling. Though he was sure Fleur and Bill would have her well in hand.

As they all fell into a comfortable silence, he sipped his hot chocolate. 

It was then that the emotions of the last twelve hours began to truly sink in. He felt exhausted and wide-awake all at once, as his brain ran over and over everything, trying to think of anything he could do differently. But the truth was, he had no idea how the fire had started, and he knew it might remain a mystery, So instead he tried to remind himself of how much worse things could have been had he not become aware of the fire so early on and been able to get everyone out. 

He tried to focus on the fact that no one had actually been hurt, as he let his gaze drift around the room, assuring himself that they were all there, safe and sound.

His parents were leaning against each other on the sofa closest to the window; they were obviously as exhausted and drained as he felt, though they seemed to find comfort from each other’s presence. Angelina was clearly shaken by everything too, her fingers running through George’s hair as he dozed with his head in her lap. And while Percy might have seemed unaffected to most, Charlie didn’t miss the way he was sitting just a little closer to Ginny than he normally would.

It was Draco, however, who properly caught his attention. He was still standing, lurking close to the door, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Charlie could only imagine what it had taken for Draco to grant them entry to his home, to put aside the history they all shared and be generous, a trait he was certain didn’t come naturally. And he knew it couldn’t be easy to see Weasleys, of all people, making themselves at home in his house. 

So he couldn’t blame Draco for his hesitance. However, the last thing he wanted was for Draco to feel unwelcome among them.

“Draco,” Charlie said, drawing his attention. “Why don’t you get yourself a drink before they go cold. You left yours in the drawing room and the elves have made more than enough.” 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Draco insisted stubbornly, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Please. Join us,” Charlie implored. 

“Draco, just sit down already,” Theo instructed firmly, before Draco had a chance to protest once more. “No one here is going to bite.”

“Yeah… far too tired for that,” George mumbled sleepily, neither moving or opening his eyes. 

“George!” their mother scolded half-heartedly, even as Angelina, Ginny, Harry and Theo all chuckled. 

Draco, however, did move further into the room, taking a mug of hot chocolate from the table on his way to the other armchair. Flumping himself down and crossing one knee over the other, he drank deeply. 

“Much better,” Theo remarked, letting out a long dramatic breath. “Doesn’t feel like you’re hovering over us now.”

“Thank you,” Charlie said to Draco before throwing a sharp look at Theo. He personally thought Draco’s feathers were already quite ruffled enough without Theo’s help. 

“Yes, we do hope you’ll join us in our celebrations,” Arthur told Draco with a kind smile. “We might not have any gifts left to share but thanks to you, we can at least be together.”

Draco shifted in his seat. “You’re welcome, Mr Weasley,” he replied bluntly before burying his nose in his mug as he sipped at his drink, avoiding meeting anyone’s eye. “It was no problem.”

“Maybe, but it was still really nice of you,” Angelina pointed out. 

“When Theo suggested it, I was sure you’d say no,” Harry admitted.

“You don’t have the monopoly on benevolence, Potter,” Draco snapped, sneering at him.

Harry let out a strange strangled sound of outrage. “Yeah because you have such a great history of putting everyone else first, Malfoy!”

“I think Harry just meant we know how hard this must be for you,” Charlie said, jumping in before one of them pushed the other two far and Draco ended up throwing them all back out onto the street. “Right, Harry?” 

“Yeah, something like that,” Harry agreed huffily. He breathed deeply as he relaxed back on the sofa, Theo wrapping an arm around him as he leaned into Theo’s side.

“Whatever.” Draco waved it off.

As the room fell into an only slightly awkward silence, Charlie felt like he should say something more, but nothing came to mind and so he just slowly drank this hot chocolate. He was almost at the bottom when Theo spoke up. 

“If we’re actually doing Christmas here, we need more decorations.”

“Theo…” Draco’s tone was heavy with warning. 

“Come on, Draco,” Theo encouraged. “The boxes are already in your office. And we can all help. You won’t even have to lift a finger if you don’t want to.”

“That actually sounds kinda fun,” Ginny agreed, perking up slightly.

“I’m game,” Angelina agreed eagerly. 

“Me too,” George said groggily, raising his hand, even as he continued to doze. 

“It  _ would _ be a lovely distraction,” Molly admitted as they all turned to Draco expectantly. 

However, when Draco finally look up several moments later, it was Charlie’s eye he met. Despite everyone’s enthusiasm, Draco’s uncertainty was written all over his face. Charlie frowned, not understanding his reluctance but determined to respect it, whatever the reason.

“It’s your house, your choice,” he assured him with a shrug.

Draco’s gaze drifted to Theo next.

“I think you already know my vote is for decorations,” Theo told him bluntly before turning to Harry. “Been trying to get him to put them up for days. He only agreed to the tree a couple of days go.”

“Okay, fine,” Draco agreed with an irritated huff, getting to his feet and ditching his mostly empty mug on the coffee table. “Hisky.”

The small elf appeared with a pop.

“Bring the boxes of decorations through from my office. Put them in the hall,” he instructed without hesitation.

Hisky bowed to him and almost instantly there was another small pop as the elf disappeared once more. 

A soft thump sounded in the hallway just outside the lounge and Charlie, Ginny and Harry all got to their feet. Angelina was slowed only by having to manoeuvre out from beneath her husband, whose head fell to the sofa with an oomph. Together they all hurried from the room. 

Charlie was momentarily surprised by the number of boxes, until he remembered just how large the house was. The others seemed impressed too if their wide-eyed and silent awe was anything to go by. It would certainly keep them busy for the rest of the day. 

“Awesome,” George breathed out as he and Theo joined them, Molly, Arthur and Percy crowded in the doorway behind him. 

It was a sentiment Charlie agreed with and as his parents and Percy moved out into the hallway to see what was in the boxes being opened, Charlie moved back into the lounge looking for Draco. He was only half surprised, however, to find the room empty. 

Apparently Draco had disapparated out the first chance he got. 

Charlie sighed sadly as he leaned against the doorway, his gaze lingering on the chair Draco had sat in only moments earlier. Theo came to stand at his side, following his eye line. 

“Don’t take it too hard,” Theo told him. “It’s nothing personal. Christmas is just a difficult time of year for him.”

“It’s fine, I’m just…” Charlie trailed off as he searched for the right word, “...disappointed.”

Theo pinched his lips together as he nodded. “Draco needs pushing sometimes, otherwise that stubborn arse would mope about in misery for the rest of his life. But allowing you all in and letting us decorate are already huge steps. Apparently actually helping us would be a step too far. Don’t give up on him.”

Charlie flashed him a smirk. “I take care of actual fire-breathing dragons for a living,” he pointed out. “It’s going to take more than a little pouting to make me give up on this grumpy human dragon.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Theo retorted with a grin of his own, patting him on the shoulder as he went to go help unpack the rest of the decorations. 

-#-

Although it was only early evening, it was already dark outside by the time Charlie came back into the lounge. It had taken them the best part of six hours to hang the decorations across every corner of the manor, and they were only just starting to run out. 

Percy, Angelina and Ginny had been handling the lounge and it looked incredible.

“Wow, guys.”

He took a moment to admire not just the decorations but also the proud smile on his little sister’s face. It was a beautiful sight and made him even more grateful to Draco for making it possible. 

“Wait until you see it with the lights off,” Angelina told him eagerly, extinguishing the chandelier above them. 

Charlie gasped with awe as Christmas lights illuminated the room and the rest of the decorations even more magically. It was as close to perfect as he could imagine and he couldn’t wait to celebrate Christmas there with his family. However, as he imagined them all gathered around, it wasn’t quite right and he realised that if he didn’t take action, there was going to be someone important missing. 

“You’ve done amazingly,” he praised. “Show Mum, she’ll love it. I need to go take care of something.”

Ignoring the curious looks they gave him, Charlie turned and hurried out of the room. The corridors he had walked with Draco earlier were now festively decorated, several of the portraits looking rather disgruntled about the garlands and other decorations which had been attached to their frames or draped over them. 

He came to a stop outside the drawing room where he had found Draco earlier. Rapping his knuckles against the heavy wood door, he didn’t wait for a response before pushing it open and peering inside. 

He froze in the doorway, needing a moment to take it all in. 

Much like the lounge, the room was lit mostly by the numerous Christmas lights, which had been strung across the bookcases lining the majority of the room’s walls. However, there was also the warm, wintery glow of the gently flickering fire. In front of it was Draco, eyes shut and a closed book in his lap. 

He looked magnificent and Charlie was mesmerized.

“This room has quite enough decorations already, Theo,” Draco remarked. 

“Oh, uh,” Charlie said feeling as though he was intruding but also desperately not wanting to leave. “Actually, it’s…”

“Charlie,” Draco exclaimed breathlessly, his eyes flying open as he all but jumped to his feet. “What do you want?” he asked, regaining some of his composure.

“Nothing,” Charlie told him reflexively. “Well, actually no, not quite nothing,” he quickly corrected. 

Draco frowned in confusion as Charlie stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him. He waited patiently, however, for Charlie to elaborate.

“I want to make sure you don’t just hide from us again.” Charlie took several steps towards him, pleased when Draco made no move to back away. “We want you to celebrate with us.”

Draco scoffed. 

“Okay, fine, I know you, Harry and Ron are never going to be exactly close, but I want you there,” Charlie clarified.

“Why?” Draco asked sceptically.

Charlie smiled, stepping closer and he reached out tentatively to wrap an arm around Draco’s waist. He waited for Draco to pull away or push him back, but those silver eyes met his with such intensity his breath caught in his throat. Not trusting his voice, he simply glanced upward at the decoration he knew to be above their heads. 

It took only a few seconds for Draco to glance up too, his eyes widening as he spotted the mistletoe, which had obviously been placed there deliberately. 

Charlie smirked as Draco looked back to him, letting the moment hang between them for a precious few seconds before pressing his lips against Draco’s. The squeak of surprise made him smile as he pulled back. 

“Does that make it any clearer?” Charlie asked. 

“A bit,” Draco told him. “But maybe we should try again, just to be certain I didn’t misunderstand.”

“Just to be sure,” Charlie agreed as he leaned in to kiss him once more. 


	13. Christmas Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And our final chapter of this story. On Christmas day (just... only 20 minutes left of it here right now - wasn't sure I'd make it as I have yet another migraine). 
> 
> But anyway...
> 
> Merry Christmas to you all, I really hope you've enjoyed the story and had a great day!
> 
> #

Slowly regaining consciousness, Harry felt as though he’d slept for a week, simultaneously well-rested and reluctant to fully wake. For a moment, he was confused about where he was, but soon recognised Theo’s bed at Malfoy Manor, despite having only stayed there a few times previous. 

Theo was still fast asleep, snoring away next to him, handsome and peaceful, but Harry’s thoughts felt like treacle as he tried to remember why they were there. 

It wasn’t long, though, before his memories of the Burrow burning returned. 

Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling, his hand pressed against his aching heart. Even knowing the house could be rebuilt with magic, it’s destruction was hitting him hard. It had been the first place, other than Hogwarts, he had ever truly felt safe; it was where he had found his family. But he’d been powerless to stop it as they watched it go up in flames.

And now he remembered clearly why he was there. The Burrow was gone, and Draco Malfoy, of all people, had given them shelter.

Harry had been incredibly surprised when Malfoy had granted Theo’s request. Surprised, but grateful, for Molly’s sake as much as anything. He had known for a while that Malfoy was trying to be a better man, and Harry would admit he was succeeding to at least some degree; he was certainly already a better man than his father had ever been. But for him to swallow his pride and willingly open his home to the entire Weasley family… that was something else altogether.

Harry supposed Malfoy was simply trying to put the war behind him, as they all were. And as much as he still disliked him, he could respect that.

“You’re thinking too hard for so early.”

At Theo’s mumbled words, Harry rolled his head to smile at him. He had one eye just barely open and yet was still managing to glare at him. 

“It’s not so early,” Harry informed him. Sunlight was creeping in around the edges of the curtained windows, enough to softly illuminate the room. “Besides, it’s Christmas morning.” He rolled back into Theo’s side. “Aren’t we supposed to be awake at the crack of dawn?”

Theo let out a disgruntled huff. “Absolutely not,” he stated flatly as he wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him closer, attempting to go back to sleep. 

“Theo,” Harry protested through a laugh. “You can’t go back to sleep, it’s Christmas Day.” 

“Sleep now. Christmas later,” Theo insisted tiredly, his eyes both closed once more, his face half smooshed against his pillow. 

Harry, however, was determined. Pushing at Theo’s shoulder, he rolled him from his side, onto his back. At the same time, he slung a leg over Theo’s waist and, going with the motion, pulled himself up to straddle his stunned and disoriented boyfriend. 

He grinned down at Theo, who blinked up at him with confusion. 

“Christmas now,” Harry told him firmly, his hands brushing over Theo’s bare abs. “It’s our first one together and you’re missing it.”

“I’m not missing anything,” he countered. “I’m right here. So are you.”

“Yes, but Christmas is downstairs,” Harry insisted, letting his fingers dip just beneath the waistband of Theo’s pyjama trousers.

Theo groaned and slung an arm over his eyes, as he attempted to regulate his breathing. 

Running his nails up the centre of Theo’s chest, Harry leaned in closer. “I’d be very grateful.”

“This is doing nothing to get me out of bed sooner,” Theo pointed out, his voice growing husky, his arm slipping from his eyes so he could gaze up at Harry. “In fact, I’m perfectly comfortable. Maybe we can spend Christmas right here.”

Harry laughed and shoved playfully against his chest, sitting upright once more and earning a small groan from Theo. 

“You’re terrible,” Harry informed him. “Besides, don’t you want to find out where exactly Charlie vanished off to last night? And what Draco was so busy with, that he missed dinner completely?”

Theo threw a half-hearted and unimpressed glared. “Come on, Harry, we both know exactly what they were busy doing?”

“Well… yeah…of course,” Harry agreed dismissively. “But the real question is, are  _ you  _ going to let Ron and George have first shot at mocking them?”

Theo sighed dramatically, thunking his head back against his pillow and throwing his arm over his face once more. 

Harry grinned, knowing he had won. 

“Come on then, sleepyhead!” he exclaimed. 

He scrambled off Theo and all but jumped from the bed. He stopped just short of the en-suite bathroom and turned back to his boyfriend, who had propped himself up in bed to watch him. He pulled his pyjama top up and off over his head, tossing it aside.

“If you’re quick, you could join me in the shower,” he told him, dropping his pyjama trousers and stepping out of them before disappearing into the bathroom. 

He heard the soft thud of Theo tumbling out of bed and snorted in amusement. As he climbed into the shower, he couldn’t help but think that, despite everything, it was going to be a really good day.

-#-

“Harry, Theo! Merry Christmas to you both,” Arthur exclaimed from his seat at the far end of the table as the two of them entered the Dining Room for breakfast. 

“Merry Christmas, Arthur, everyone,” Harry replied happily.

“Merry Christmas,” Theo echoed as the two of them moved round to the empty seats next to Ginny.

“Sorry we’re running a bit late this morning,” Harry apologised, as tea, juice and a full English breakfast appeared in front of each of them.

“Yeah, what time do you call this,” George told them impishly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a teasing smile.

“We were just discussing who to send up to wake you,” Ron added with a far too knowing smile. 

“We were awake,” Theo told them without any sign of embarrassment, though Harry wasn’t sure whether that was because he didn’t realise the implication of his words, or simply didn’t care.

“Guess you had a…um, _busy_ … morning. That’s what we’re calling it right, Charlie?” Ginny asked with mock innocence, which no one was foolish enough to believe.

“Ginny!” Molly chastised half-heartedly, as laughter broke out around the table. 

“Something like that,” Charlie agreed, his own smile twitching in amusement. 

Harry felt a flush rise in his cheeks. They had all known exactly what Charlie and Malfoy had been up to when they hadn’t shown for dinner the evening before, proclaiming themselves busy. And now apparently the whole family knew how he and Theo had decided to kick off their Christmas celebrations. 

“Talking of busy,” Theo piped up, “where is Draco?” 

“Not sure, he snuck off before most of us were even awake. But I’m done eating so I’ll go find him,” Charlie told them as he got up from the table. “Need to make sure he doesn’t hide away in a book all day.”

Harry sipped at his tea and waited until Charlie was out of the room to ask, “So it’s official then? Charlie and Malfoy?”

“Seems like it,” Bill told him. The eldest Weasley sibling was sat close to his mother at the far end of the table and was supervising his daughter as she fed herself what looked to be porridge. “Charlie is definitely smitten either way.”

“I think it’s kind of sweet,” Angelina said. “And besides, if anyone can keep that boy inline it’s our Charlie.”

“I’ll drink to that,” George exclaimed, raising his mug.

“Me too,” Theo agreed, copying the gesture. “To taming Draco.”

Harry snorted in amusement, shaking his head. “Some best friend you are.”

“Eh.” Theo shrugged. “Draco could use a little tough love. This will be good for him. Besides,” he went on a little quieter, “with him so preoccupied, you can keep me all to yourself.”

Harry smirked, convinced despite himself, and lifted his mug. “To taming Malfoy.” 

-#-

As they made their way back to the lounge, it was clear to Harry that none of the Weasleys were quite sure what to do with themselves. Everyone was being oddly quiet and only Hermione and Theo, a few paces ahead of him, were chatting avidly as they walked. 

Normally after breakfast the family would have sat down together to share and unwrap presents, and perhaps play some games, all while Molly dashed to and from the kitchen, checking on Christmas dinner. But all of the presents had been destroyed in the fire, along with any games they might have played. And the elves were sorting the food, despite Molly’s attempts to insist she help.

Though as they all crowded into the lounge once more, the fire raging in its grate and Christmas lights sparkling around them, it was as close to perfect as they could hope for in the circumstances.

Everyone’s attention was drawn, however, to the single mysterious present in the middle of the coffee table, wrapped in paper decorated with stars of every colour. As far as Harry knew, none of the presents had survived, so he had no idea where this one had come from.

Arthur picked it up, everyone waiting as he read the label attached.

“It’s for Victoire,” he told them, and he held the present out toward Fleur and Bill. “Doesn’t say who it is from.”

Bill took it cautiously, turning it over in his hands for a moment before looking to Theo with a puzzled frown. 

“Did you... or Malfoy…?” Bill asked, his words catching in his throat and failing him.

Harry turned to Theo, eyes wide with hope and delighted surprise. 

“It was nothing,” Theo assured him bashfully. 

Harry couldn’t help but grin. He knew, of course, that his boyfriend was capable of great generosity when the occasion struck, but it was rare for Theo to let others see it. Though he supposed that was why the present had no name; apparently he hadn’t thought anyone would catch on so quickly. 

“Consider it a thank you for being so welcoming if it helps,” Theo suggested.

“Thank you,” Fleur exclaimed tearily, throwing an arm around Theo and pressing kisses to his cheeks as her gratitude overflowed. 

You’re welcome,” Theo assured her, patting her awkwardly on the back; though the moment she released him he stepped out of her reach, as though concerned she might pounce again. 

Fleur, however, was now totally absorbed in watching Bill help their daughter unwrap her new book.

“It wasn’t nothing,” Harry told Theo quietly, interlinking their fingers as he pressed into his side. “I know what it is like to be the child who gets nothing at Christmas. I would never want that for her.”

“I wish I had something to give you,” Theo told him, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. 

“You gave me back this family Christmas,” Harry pointed out. He gestured to the family around them, including Molly, who now had Victoire on her lap as she started to read the book to her granddaughter for the first time. “We’d all be in our own homes, celebrating separately, if it wasn’t for you.”

“True, I clearly saved the day,” Theo agreed smugly, preening at the praise. 

“Yeah, just don’t let it go to your head,” Harry instructed firmly. “But...”

Harry trailed off, second-guessing himself. He shook his head; it was a stupid idea.

“What is it?” Theo asked, his expression turning serious. 

“There is one thing you could do for me?”

“Name it,” Theo pressed eagerly. 

Harry took a deep steadying breath. “Move in with me.”

His heart was hammering violently in his chest as he looked up into Theo’s eyes, awaiting his answer. He was terrified of what he might say, but this Christmas had made him realise he wanted to share his life with Theo and he didn’t want to wait to start. 

“Of course, I will. I’d love to. Though we’ll have to find a bigger place than that box you currently live in,” Theo informed him. 

“I’m okay with that,” Harry agreed, wrapping his arms around Theo’s neck and pulling him into a not exactly chaste kiss.

“Hey! Kid present,” Bill exclaimed. 

They hastily broke apart, Harry grinning from ear-to-ear. “Sorry, Bill, won’t happen again,” he said without taking his eyes off Theo. “Besides, we’ll have plenty of time for all that later, in our new home.”

“Your new home?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“Wait,” Ron said, looking up from the chess game he and George were setting up, over to Harry and Theo. “You’re moving in together?”. 

“Who’s moving in together?” Charlie asked as he stepped into the room. 

“Harry and Theo,” Ginny told him, but as everyone turned toward the doorway, they all froze.

Malfoy was standing at Charlie’s side, their hands clearly entwined. Realising they were all staring, Malfoy tried to pull his hand free and back out of the room, but Charlie held firm.

“Hey, don’t run,” Charlie implored, turning his attention to Malfoy and putting himself between him and the rest of them. “You’re fine, I promise. Besides, if you run then I will have to follow; and trust me, the rest of that lot will likely follow us too.” He gestured over his shoulder to the family. 

“Yeah, we are way too curious to let this go,” George told him.

“I dunno, not sure I want to know anything,” Ron countered, shuddering. “Does it really have to be Malfoy, Charlie?”

“It definitely does,” Charlie replied, still facing Malfoy. “There’s no one else quite like him.”

“Well he’s not wrong there,” Angelina pointed out. 

“I knew that mistletoe would work,” Theo whispered to Harry. 

He looked incredibly pleased with himself and Harry had to smile in amusement despite himself. Though he was far from Malfoy’s biggest fan, he did at least want Charlie to be happy. And he was rather enjoying seeing Theo play matchmaker.

“Please join us, Draco,” Molly requested, when Malfoy continued to hesitate in the doorway. “You’re family now.”

“Family?” he questioned uncertainly.

“If you’re going to be with me, then yeah, that makes you family,” Charlie clarified. “And I’d really like it if you’d stay.”

Malfoy still looked uncertain but nodded. “Fine,” he agreed, “I’ll stay. But this doesn’t make me a Weasley,” he added as Charlie led him over to a space on one of the sofas. 

“Sure it does,” Hermione told him gleefully. “There’s never been a red-headed Malfoy after all.”

Horrified, Malfoy turned to Charlie, who shrugged, chuckling nervously. 

“Look on the bright side,” Theo added, a devilish grin on his face. “At least your not becoming a Potter.”

Despite knowing he should be offended, Harry couldn’t help but enjoy the way Malfoy paled. It was certainly going to be interesting having him in the family. 


End file.
